On the edge of darkness
A desert flower is scolded, burnt.
And a palm leaf is torn apart,
By a living, breeding, blue macaw's claw.
It is their crucifix
This thuggish, world
That delights in their
Immoveable, situation
They even build defences to survive.
And shield, themselves
In order-to-sustain
Their agonies own crucifixion.
But deep down their roots offer endless hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem