(i)
Blanketed and roped
by midget-sized
bullet ants, it takes only
one ant to sink
the needle that sends
the big animal to find
a new home amid
wriggling stars of pain.
How a creep from specks
of dust and locks
of grassy debris shrug
themselves off heavy feet,
crawling out of narrow
spaces to stitch themselves
onto a crowned mammal
trudging on them
every day at every step,
every tilt and kick
and footslog, cutting off
hands from trunk and tusk.
(ii)
When a smoke-puffing
monarch presses
and tramps hard on
imps and dwarfs,
burning into feathers
of sun rays and fat ashes
spat out by a volcano,
watch out for embers,
these half-men from
coals split and ground
into specks of themselves,
a flame of crawling ants.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent. You have done great. This one is shorter more focus but still has the intoxicating Bongjoh metaphors. An aspiring POTD i would vote.