Casuarinas Poem by Daniel Samoilovich

Casuarinas



Accustomed to the rustle of their leaves,
To the flutter of bird wings
The beak that drills the bark
In search of a grub,
Casuarinas can't believe
That other giant, the river, flows silent.
They think they are a little deaf
So they lean to listen closely
And often are defeated by mistake.

Translated by Andrew Graham-Yooll

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success