There is a big crowd at the Police Station.
Suspicious soldiers in the city are taking away all firearms.
Frightened citizens, in accordance with military
directives, are depositing their shotguns,
Maybe I’m no human, humans are different;
They can walk, they can sit, and they can wander room to room
They are different; they are afraid of death, scared of snakes.
Maybe I’m no human. Then how can snakes raise no fear within me?
'Cause a poem will be written, with eager excitement
Lacks and lacks of excited anxious eager rebelious audiences are waiting
Till dawn on the beach of the park that turned into an ocean of crowd-
'When is the poet arriving?' 'When is the poet arriving?
I have never tasted the fruit
of the forbidden tree,
I have been waiting. waiting.
like the sea that waits for the river
You are leaving: the steamboat starts off undulating the river
Amidst the clamour of engine
From behind the cloud of smokes
Beauty of your weary face gleams