The coast is roughly clear
day after day
night follows night
swerving from left
the right rightly fierce
boats kept from sail
sail to death
the fishes waged a war
perhaps the biggest is losing
the fishermen retreating
perhaps they fear death
The red sea quivers
Alas the Atlantic enraged
pacific silent
leaving Mediterranean afraid
shall they cease to kill?
one by one the younger are going
little by little the big is drowning
how come is it?
has he no fin?
has he no gill?
has he no scale?
Alas it has been wounded
shall the dying fish revive?
has the fishermen stopped?
brutal men with zero passion
the prince of the coast
the beauty of existence
present in rare rivers
how fortunate we are
a full you we have
now we are drowning you
we are cutting you
that we may eat
the buyers are left hungry
the fishermen betrayed them
they sold black for white
shall the fish drown unsaved?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem