yesterday i did not report for work.
i told myself, i am fed up and i want to be left alone.
and so i stayed on the yard
taking with me a seat
for a companion and i focused
my gaze on the grass
until those little birds arrive
struggling to eat most of the
rice grains fit for
chickens
they were noisy and
seemingly on top of their arguments
and i listened
and then there was this orange cat with one eye
silently sitting on the
side of a tree
trying to catch a bird
for breakfast
how can these creatures be too like us?
astonishing, and then as predicted by your
usual experience,
i begin to write again
this time perhaps
an article
on sociology vis-a-vis
bird-cat
relations.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's just nice to sit, look and listen for a while and no work as well, good times