I saw him;
on the tarred floor,
with blood oozing from his nose,
life from his mouth,
and tears from a driver's eyes.
I heard their screams:
those in the car,
and all others too
who saw him
His mama,
at home,
is waiting for salt,
waiting for her son.
And I'm here,
picking words from bottles,
For I,
I have to tell her
that I saw him,
on the floor,
with life oozing from his mouth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very awful scene. And it seems that the person talking in the poem knew the victim.