A dove darted towards Mars
to pull its eyes from their sockets.
He stroke once more the planet's
dermatitis with its beak,
then his Thanatos-wooed eyes
captured the tons of
cartilages drowning the horizon,
like a wall made out of futility's origami.
Mars let out a silence
filthier than a babel of mocking laughter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem