The boy walked the line of the street
between the houses where the dogs lie;
peered into bins, dragged his feet,
and ate what dogs had left,
stepping over the bodies.
He came to the end of the street;
bodies piled up in the square
between the empty stalls.
On the air, rotting fruit,
among the rotting fruit,
the piled dead; piled and rotting.
He stooped to pick up
a handful of used shells,
and turned to walk the line of the street
between the houses where the dogs lie;
peer into bins, drag his feet,
and eat what dogs had left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem