I wish I were a butterfly
who, with no rhyme or reason,
could shoot down others in the sky
in any given season.
A butterfly, who always brings
to those around her love and cheer
improves if she has guns on her wings
and fills other insects' lives with fear.
Beneath her delicately curled antennae,
she thinks malicious thoughts;
when admiring her wings, check for any
blood among the dots.
I wish I were a butterfly,
a precious, lovely creature,
the reigning terror of the sky
for no one can defeat her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem