Tigress from the east

A baby bunny beside Danube

Soaring on your own!

I saw the "baby bunny" crawling alongside the Danube, squaring

Ears, horn highly with passing boats:

One, two, three- From left to right,

Again lost...

Me! The only odd to count with a single finger,

But from day one I learn how to wiggle my rest nine fingers.

Speaking when I was supposed to sing, before a "whoop".

A sonic clap and a whip, those torrents sauntering forward through

Muds; they sew many descending, brownish bat-wings, press me deep down to bushes,

Until the last snarl is transplanted under water, another "baby bunny" heave out of her hole.

Translates- "Welcome to the new world."

She speaks for me, when her two ears hawking at the next solidary hunt- straightly beyond the cloud,

Departing she and I.

Waves toiling my fleshes beneath rapids and progress our every tiny swirl, so lovely,

It is nowhere close to Waltz or Tango, my ribs are buried in every humanized corner,

And learn how to walk on two- let me lay out conditions: cycling, circling, psycho-ing,

Two words in every spoken language that knit limbs everywhere across this ground.

One and a hundred more dips again, blue mists no longer excite when the colors are dismembered.

Adieu, my innate dancer, shall be happy that the water does not draw her in,

Float however, and strides her widely in each determined lump and hop,

At very every bubbled peak, split those fish eyes and non-lives underneath her water- there was cold! We are so hard to flip,

To breathe, to tremble, to wake, only tails twist one swift and another and circling again,

To the end where we even forget every sensual nerve and prawning nail,

Around the one last circled, round bubble, spit out of mouth.

Isn't this a miracle? A wonder between she and I where the sun stands.

And how comes we reach and depart this far- when the heaven is set forth,

To her newborn grass nest, meters of the underworld which turns to be mine and everyone's homes?

Deep underneath the soil, I, we humans, call it as "hells", "graves", "cages", away from touches of gods.

"It is cold out there!" Shout, whilst I am still able to, and please, let me stare at her two laconic black eyes-

Thousands of nerves are freshly warmed, pumping for forever new touches.

And then I shall notice, before the "whoops" begins- every inch of new sun excites her,

Enormous singer under her tiny shell of life, and remember,

We shared the same womb.

(This poem is written for my first friend, Moby. I went on a trip to Austria and those bavarian rabbits beside the danube river, reminded me of her)