Headlights illuminate the tangle of branches
Where nearby you will sleep
They are bony encrusted arms able to choke a horse
You will have to close your eyes sooner or later
And who knows what they will be up to
To be strangled is inappropriate
Especially by a roughhewn cedar
Greygreen now in the headlights
And tantalizing in the wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem