Incas and the frogs
I fell into the Andes
Now, being curious journalist
I made me plan, list.
First Incas
Who are they?
How was life and system?
Enemies; all friends?
"Find Charkas"
Told me one, Wilfred.
And I went and I went and I went
Ended in the Chaco to find the Guarani
"They still remains same, "
"Bunch of wild in reserve, "
I was told…
One back pack
And a sheet as a tarp
Bed and wrap…
Except for flashlight
(My reserve for midnight,)
Sky gave me the light
With her sun, moon; stars.
Evening and thirsty
Heard frogs
"Water there…" was happy.
Headed there
And ended in deep mud
Saved half-life
Was attacked, biting ants
All over were zombies
Remains of the victims
Of the ‘Shell', ‘Standard'!
When will I, if ever?
Be able to write that story?
The horses when running
Running wild like dream…
And insects around me
Flying but barrel, with me oil…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem