Even if you did escape,
Small sparkling magician that you are,
You would still forever bear my scar.
In your home here on the cape
You danced free, pushed and pulled by waves
Of emotion and water that never saves
It's salty inhabitants. Your shape,
Now a clear shadow in the rippling sea,
Comes closer, closer, up towards me.
Spirited, round water-ape,
You fight for every breath you take;
Against the pain in your lip you struggle to break
Free. Hooked (as you are) you seem to gape
At he who did your love-life steal.
With his rod and bait he did appeal
To your hunger for a meal.
Now for this man you are the meal.
The fork's in your side; how does it feel?
Skinned alive-or were you dead? -
Your scales still sparkle without the seabed.
It seems you've been caught: heart, mind, not soul.
Your spirit's fled through that gaping hole,
That empty space within your cheek,
That scar that marks what you get to keep:
Nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem