Red flowers lie on the white cloth like a stain
A voice speaks quietly and clearly in the night
“Everything is going to be alright.”
That’s what they always say,
It means exactly the opposite.
The snake hisses and slithers half hidden in the folds
And he comes home, to the place he belongs,
And now we can rest at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem