rumbles from the belly's necklace....cushioned now....
wauling night a shaded bygone.......
replenished...fed with bits of scraps...warm milk.....
from a hand that just faintly resembles a paw....
lives...tamed... in a chiaroscuro corridor..
has
not fence-walked
in
any other than a metaphorical sense.........eats larger birds......roasted...
but
knows the otherly lure of bat's flights......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem