Fool lentils
In the pot
Swam the lentils
Happy to have matured
Ready to grow and give birth.
I heated the water
Hot, hotter to boiling
With bubbles…
Their skin shouted:
"Burning, burning! "
Greyish puff of peeled skin
Painted the water's surface.
But from the side
Came out something like a tongue.
It looked a turtles' head from the shell
And a Samurai's sword from the sheaf
And a tailor's scissors from folded cloth.
That is how the lentils wanted to germinate
Oh
How wrong
They stepped into death!
Do I think like a chef?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem