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A BRIGHT DAY FULL OF SILVERY CLOUDS
I looked up to the heaven
My heart bursting with angst
Hatred I felt for so long
Hatred I have been keeping for so long
And what does it matter now
In my heart of hearts
I am wishing
That a rose thorn
Would prick
That silly butterfly
That I know, I know
Is only doing
Whatever he was meant to be doing
Still it would probably make me smile
To see a dead butterfly
Stuck on a rose thorn
With seven other species
Of flying insects
And what would I give
To see a bee so drunk
He drowns in the same honey
He makes
Or an ant getting crushed
By the same food
He tries to collect
With these thoughts in mind
I noticed the whitest of all fogs
The dreamiest of all those things
You see when you look up to the heaven.
One by one, they slowly passed,
Their enormity made me forget
Their shrinking distance
That I reached out my hands
To touch them
Anyone of them
I looked around
And saw plenty more of them
Some shaped like a bee
Buzzing like a bee
Some shaped like an ant
Crawling like an ant
Causing me to sigh and smile
Even for a little while
And although I sensed some relief
Some hatred washed off
Some terrible memory cleansed
In my heart of hearts
I would still love to see
The crucifixion of that damned butterfly
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