I lay upon a shingle beach
All the fish were out of reach
But in the corner of my eye
I spied a group of Octopi
They stood there on the salty rocks
Deep in quarrel, deep in talks
Of how to find a worthy mate
When very few will copulate
I cried HELLO my leggy friends
If happiness on this depends
I'll gladly wed the lonely fish
And serve up joy upon a dish
They turned in anger, turned in awe
Stared in hatred, stared and saw
That I presented two legs only
I pled my case that I was lonely
In a flash they swam away
And I was left
In disarray
Funny, rhythmic, and flowing. I've never been attracted to an octopus myself. But except for the snobbery at the end, your poem makes them sound a bit more desirable
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Again a fine example of fevered fantasy. The author betrays his deeply felt love of nature, and maybe even his despair at the isolation he experiences as a part his human condition. The inherent optimism is always displayed in a naive and childlike manner. Excellent work.