A poem we have studied in English recently:
an angry ant as it ambles along,
a terrified tarantula tickling a trout,
and a curious computer
calling cautiously to the King.
silence closing its lips
and vowing never to speak again,
the humming bird’s wings flickering,
the sea turning over the beach,
scraping the pebbles,
while the weary lorries trundle by.
smooth pebbles from the summer beach,
the stickiness of honey on a fingertip,
and the heat from a mug of tea,
clutched by hands as if in prayer.
in the candle flame’s dance,
a hyena’s cackle
as it paces its deserted lands,
and the Titanic’s last scream.
the coldness of frost
as it freckles the window pane,
the sharpness of a saw
as it crunches through wood,
and the sadness of a tear
as it trickles down the clown’s cheek.
the Moon’s cold gleam
and trap it in a box,
the joy of the merry-go-round
as it spins like a crazy wheel,
and the force of a rainbow
as it stuns the sky.