What a surprise- the red berries have
been stolen! They were but so cold,
and so sweet. Perhaps it is I
who is the culprit. Or perhaps, it
is the senile old man, proclaiming lightly,
'I am a rosebush', planting his forbidden
seeds, in areas maked off with yellow tape.
I cannot be punished. I am the red berry-eater,
that slithers through society without
being caught; so invisible that everybody
knows, and has punished me with ignorance.
You, the one with the blissful look
over there; are the king and tyrant,
and you, with the blinfolded eyes,
are society, happy and stupid with all you have.
You, over there, with cheerful smile
and hurtful means; are the berryeater-captor,
whom I am being hunted down by,
and I, a victim of society's evil ways,
the redberry-eater, feel
obligated to eat society's red-berries for
society's sake, my sake, for
now, and forever.
But, the truth is out:
Red Berries are nothing,
and everyone has already found out,
and they don't seem to care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem