A short rock became my rainbow rock,
As I threw it fully into the lifeless pond,
Quiet now that it entered, as it was a vibrant
Sight worth a declining hand.
The putrid flesh of the rolling fish reeked
Of the flesh of whole affairs, to forget was to deny
Their throats, as they half-lived and spat their waters,
Biting and incising the hands of the thrower of the rock.
One bitter stinging fish was seen exiting the waters,
Putting poison into the airs and hunting me down,
A rock I sent and unseated the poor reeking fish,
Bringing it down for the house of death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem