In the miasma
of the choked
river he drifts,
hiding his lizard hands.
A dead tree
trunk nudged by birds.
A leaf blinks.
Only in nightmares
can a stump
come so brutally to life.
Water thrashes
like tormented sleep.
Then slowly
the sinking down to where, amongst stones,
corpses are interred
in coffins of decaying leaves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In coffins of decaying leaves. Nice work. Thanks for sharing.