Cruel Man
Not this time
Not at all
This shaking of the knee is not of speakers
Of course sound is too loud; turned to waves
(Hitting me in the face and on knees)
Neither does vibrate and shiver of fear of police
Not at all, no, no; no
This is of the squirrel
(This black crazy animal, with that tail and no mind)
Yes of course I feel bad
On the road it ran fast; hit my car
I heard it; lost track
I wonder
Is it killed?
Just wounded?
I'm shaking...
Memories keep racing
Of the sheep I saw hit
Of the bird that I hit
And balance in nature
What is man, this cruel?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem