The wisteria vine was killed
and his gentle theads were made
a bow with which to shoot arrows
into innocent animals' bone marrow.
The loving cat met with
death by violence.
Her intestines were used
to make music from a violin.
(to Fred Babbin whose kind
sending of a Buddhist parable
gave the idea to me)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem