Δευτέρα 10 Ιουνίου 2019

SNAKE EGG

Horrid element, blunt shudder sent through Earth, egg in mid-air…
It’s hidden in caves, sub-human nests, howling.
Shedding its rotting dark-colored skin each season.
The cries are scales, dictated by instinct, jungle remnants.

Corpses, mummies, bones, food for a winter’s hibernation.
Oblivious to crimes, boorishness and base, cowardly conspiracies.
It smashes the delicate shell, with its forked tongue smells
an open wound, blood-curdling, full of poison…

Its sharp golden fangs stick out, bite whatever they reach.
It carves out a trail on the sick mind of revenge and extreme hate.
In the dead of night it withdraws once more and lies in wait.
The warmth of the snake egg is enough for it to come back to life…

Dimitris Victor

Τtranslation
Philip Ramp


#Victor_Poetry



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