I dare not pluck this flower
A little bee is in there
Eating his breakfast
Easy to pluck it and shake it
The little bee would depart
Cursing the intruder.
I have a mortal fear
Of nature’s curse.
Under a flowering tree
I tread softly
Lest I trample the busy hordes
Collecting supplies
For the winter’s larder.
Mind murmurs
It’s a crime to destroy lives.
A careless step kills a hundred
And the guilt hangs around my neck
Like a dead albatross.
The lizard lurks all day
Around the window.
Above the window
Lurks death too
One looks for a morsel
The other for a victim.
I dare not shut the window
I may crush the lizard
I can’t bear the awesome burden
Of black guilt in my conscience.
- - - - - - - - -
14—10- 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem