Vessel built by Nature
Maintained by a crew of instinct.
Sails that've been passed down
Since the fourteen generation ago,
Blown by winds of culture.
At times glides over still water,
At times rises and falls with the swells.
All the while a fugitive stowaway
Hidden in a corner of the cargo bay
Naked, shivering in seated fetal position
Murmurs something about mutiny
Refers to himself
As Captain I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Mongoose. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.