the mob follows the mob
is it faith?
or is it the color and
the vibrancy of the
occasion?
perhaps it is the loud
chant and the sound only of
the tapping of the
million feet on that
pavement
the shouts of the male drums
the grace of the female dancers
the tiaras on their heads
the flowers on their hairs
as the caterpillars follow
the tail of the last caterpillar
so the crowd shall follow
its leader
moving in circles and not
arriving at
anything
ah, what a joy is there
reverberating in the steel hearts
of a million emptiness combined
on the last day the streets will be
filled with litter
and then fading on those darkness
is the laughter......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem