All night, insects and pipers sing in the marshes,
and the little wet ponds in the woods.
They sing, as if the night wouldn't be night
without their songs.
Often, I have wondered if they sing for comfort
against the dreadful tentacles that find their way
in the dark molecules of impalpable night;
to attract the opposite sex, to mate, to procreate,
to write against the night; or simply, for the sake of song,
communion, life.
I wonder why humans sleep at night.
I wonder if there are songs too under the ocean floor
at night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
pretty! this poem almost puts a spin on beauty- you would think the use of insects, marshes, tentacles, etc would make for a more...creepy crawly poem, but in fact, it's quite the opposite. Also adds some food for thought at the end too. I mean it's not anything too deep, but it gives life to the poem. I found it refreshing!