My mother is a fish, William Faulkner sings.
I ponder from 1 A.M. to 3 A.M.
in some whistling, nocturnal rings of the night,
and I stumble on the history of Evolution -
Sure enough, humans descend from some primitive fish-like
creatures or perhaps aquatic apes.
You can verify with the Wikipedia. No joke.
How learned and therapeutic is Faulkner's insight.
Except that I'm still awake at 3 A.M.
like a fish with eyes that cannot close.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem