The Caterpillar
I have seen you rippling under the hibiscus, arduously, laboriously,
Long ago I learned that you are an unfinished animal
but I know that tomorrow you shall belong to the air.
Do you know that tomorrow you shall belong to the air?
and just like then, now kneeling and trembling
I ask you:
Have you been warned that those two bothers, now invisible,
will be your wings?
Have you been told how much it will hurt when they open
or that you will only feel a sudden lightness, a disturbance
and an infinite shiver ascending from your ass?
and maybe, when looking at your wings, you will not recognize yourself
You are unaware of the great prestige of aerial beings
and you may even want to quit,
Tomorrow I will look over the hibiscus, or higher
but that can’t be: you must go to the air and leave us behind.
Allow me to see you I want to know how much it hurts, lightening up to fly.
if perhaps it’s better never to detach one’s belly from the earth.
Let me know