The white truck didn’t run me over
on the day before yesterday
while I was crossing a main road
in quite a broken state.
It slowed down, avoided me and sailed away.
Imagine the driver watching the slackening
style of an idiot rambling across his way…
Had it only taken my life on that spot—
But it left me all intact, reflecting upon my fate.
At times the white truck dashes into my dreams
just like it dashed upon me on that day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem