The mole in his fat
darkness under frost
looms in thick ooze
amidst stones sharp
and cold as stars the slow
aquatic dances of earth
worms nudge his fur
and slur the firmament
of succulent hours
hidden from flares
of dehydrating air
even if sun
light shrank to stars
above ground
the moon’s glare
would be too
much to bear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem