Whales beached in Chile
Pacific and I am in body of the whale after loss
Lost the game.
In me rings a message, a vision and advice:
“Better die…”
Cautiously, as did the prophets
I turn to a shepherd in plain and desert
talk to well; end in cave.
And message:
“Die before it is late…”
Like Mary having bulged
I sit in loneliness till he comes.
helpless I, and hopeless.
And in mind:
“honour and, pride and; the respect…
worthless now…”
I cry:
“I want my dignity, freedom…”
Echo says:
“Then go die.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem