The following is a poem by the Peruvian poet José Watanabe, titled "The Whale (Metaphor of the Unmoored)."
The translation is a bit rough, but I think it’s good enough to be understood:
They say there’s a whale in the shallow water, stranded.
Let’s go see it.
Let’s see if our small and messy spirits
can withstand the imposition of its dark tons.
Let’s see how it weeps, showing its clumsy fins
that cannot offer us a flower
between two fingers.
Let’s ask it to sing us a lament in return
with its famous soprano voice.
Let’s learn that animals with slippery skin
end up, ultimately, alone.
Let’s witness the frantic desperation of its great tail
thrashing the sand, longing to reach
deeper, navigable waters, where one can be
at peace with oneself.
And if it’s already floated back with the high tide and is gone?
Then we’ll sit on the shore and watch the sea.
The metaphor of the desolate sea
can replace the metaphor of the whale.
[link] [comments]