Fanned by the drizzling cold of the red-eyed harmattan,
I wandered between the twiny trees beckoning for a siester.
Pinched by the rough hand of misplaced panthers,
I slipped within the far-reaching arms of breasty embrace.
Calmed by this heavenly charm, I shivered:
Life then began to make sense to me;
Me! Me, of all concerned innocents, in a stalling gaze of all eyes:
Eyes! Many stunt eyes, bulging, punishing...
Oh, confused? Yes I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem