It is summer
It is Belgium
It is dawn
The wakening frogs decide to parp at once
Water lilies decorate the pool
White cups of sunshine float on a black mandala
The pool is ringed by willows and brambles
It could be a Monet painting but it's live
Rising up from the deep like a submarine
A grey torpedo, a mighty tin-eyed fish
The fish in unmoved by the past
That nightmare doesn't penetrate its scales
A bird sings beautifully in the harvest sky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem