Black and flitting
Small and swift
The bat on its
Restless journey
Goes
Throughout the night
The bat
Wants to speak
Hold meeting
To the sparse
People hurrying
On the streets
Home-bound and
The doors that lock
The lights that go
The lights that cease
Even we
We
Humans are on our
Journey
Everyday:
Everyday
We retire in the night
When the bat wakes
We stay face upwards
When
The bat face downwards likes
To hang:
In his hiding in the hours of light.
The bat no longer screeches
It has some respect for
The privacy of the houses:
But then
Whirling over the bastions
Out of town
Its screams and dances
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem