Me as a chubby little boy
On the trip of insecurity with relatives best forgotten
In an orchard, watching the locals press apples
50 cents for a cup of strong cider
How strong?
Wasps lapped at puddles of cider spillage
Swollen yellow sausages on the verge of bursting
Too drunk to sting, they fly intoxicated bump harmlessly off your shirt
During this raging wasp party, the participants too happy to think about injuring a fellow creature
Before they can fly, they must put aside an equalizer of instinct
What tells them that all relationships are of a violent defense
Experience acts like alcohol makes us friendlier than usual and not as defensive
Forgetting about what we have to go back to
Should have said yes to more things
Let my guard down and stagger happily burdened as if drunk on cider
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem