I don't dare
think about centipedes
yet when I do
it feels
that at least one
has got into my left ear
and has made way to
the brain;
Then I must presume
my left fingers as pincers
crooked together close to the ear
in many compulsive pulls
to drag the brute
out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem