somewhere
a frog is asleep
playing
dead lifeless upon
a cake of mud
there is hibernation
as a necessity
for another coming
existence
someone gets to be buried
someone becomes a busier
a brier or brewer
someday someone has to
be a chronicler
about what happened here
as most poets are
lifeless frogs inside a cake mud
sometimes a rain comes
and makes everything alive again
for all these i wait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem