A lurching farm hand starves toward their hovel.
A little girl confronts his swimming arms.
He grabs her like a ragdoll and deposits
A gritty smear on the supporting wall.
Her mother stands unmurdered as he rummages
He leaves and sprints with shrieks into the bay.
What can she do? What can her trembling say?
All evil is a starving eye
And someone getting in the way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem