the truth of the hydra
is found, it is in us,
that hidden state of
having too many heads,
relentlessly thinking
about a misfortune, a
fall, a regret and no
matter how you try to
cut one, and you think
that it is over, another
head comes popping out.
the cyclop in us wants
to be blind, the orpheus
rising, the hercules kneeling
before a gnat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem