Scarecrow

 

I want to tell you something.

About weather changes and others, perhaps.

Today, the spring yawns

Lies his body on the grass,

Opens his arms to embrace his dreams.

But his foe fall with his woes as a nightmare

Invaded the breeze of a sweet dream!

*

*

Desperately, in a yellow field

I stand and stare.

A crow on my shoulder,

It isn't afraid of me— What a mystery!

A crow with black wings dimming the eyes,

Holing the heart with its sharp beak.

Its feathers as a nest upon my hat.

It goes back and forth day and night,

Once alone and once with its murder.

*

*

Each time it comes, it finds me bristle in the same field,

With the same wooden stretched arms,

One creepy damaged eye,

No mouth to speak, no nose to breathe.

They made me ugly to fear you

To keep you away,

But you found home in me

You are in love with me—

In love with your enemy.