I saw the streets full of harpooners
Fondling the pointed ends of their tool
Imagining a forthcoming hunt.
As the small streets gave way to
Highways and broadways,
The school of harpooners
Became a kind of curious procession,
Though they were ignorant about it.
They all did caress their harpoons,
Ah yes, ecstatically, as I said before.
And the whales..
They bore the evident of the harpooners’ enthusiasm.
I watched them from height
From where I saw them swimming alert
Through the salty blue expanse
which was reddening slowly.
Cruelly decorated with harpoons
Some of them resembled
Some of them fearfully
Came to the surface to sigh, gasp and die,
While some new born cubs were ripped apart
Bathing their mother with doubly salty blood.
Some others dared to flee
With the ropes on them
Only to be pulled by the hunters
Whenever they encountered again.
The sun was about to set
But I was sure the twilight was not responsible
For the reddening of the horizon.
Then I left the city against the hurrying crowd
As fast as I can eying if I see a sapphire shore some where.
And I never regretted the harpoon I inherited
Though I was ridiculed to death by my fellow men
For what I did.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.