Will it be capybara?

 

 

poem by Ruth Salles

on the hind legs
sitting on the floor,
it's not a puppy.
What then?

Peaceful and gentle,
following in my footsteps,
it's not a puppy.
What will I do?

gnawed my pumpkin,
corn and rice.
If everything gnaws, everything,
what do i do later?

If I want to take it,
whistles like this...
calling the family,
and run away from me!

dive in the river
and jump and roll,
and eat the plant
that rolls up in water.

With hair so hard,
like a little pig,
around the house,
without being a puppy!

I can't pull it,
because it doesn't have a tail.
But I call softly.
Will she come?

If I walk, she walks.
If I stop, she stops.
Who knows your name?
Will it be capybara?

 

 

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