I have gone into the jungle,
to look for the chicks to tickle,
the drops from stalagmite twinkle,
the upside down bats eyes never blink,
the teeth of the mother ape and the young,
the sucking of the breasts never lessen,
the kissing of the leaves with brazen,
circular alarms handle always in motion,
the chicks are getting younger and younger,
while my heart goes stronger and bolder,
the jungle is littered with cubs of disaster,
the moss coated stones get wetter,
below is the home to the black spider,
The chicks are in the dream canopy higher,
the rushing breeze struggle to straighten,
all my crumbled thought with hot iron,
They are still roaming in the virgin forest,
after every harvesting laughter, they forget.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The rushing breeze struggle to straiten All my crumbled thoughts with hot iron. They are still roaming in the virgin forest A sort of introspection, and an effort to fill the balance sheet of life itself. Wonderful philosophical touch in the thought provoking verse. Enjoyed it.10 points to the poem.