Hunger feels like pincers
Like the bite of crabs.
It burns, burns, and has no fire.
Hunger is a dead fire.
Let us sit down soon to eat
With all those who haven¹t eaten.
Let us spread great tablecloths,
Put salt in the lakes of the world,
Set up planetary bakeries,
Tables with strawberries in the snow,
And a plate like the moon itself
From which we can all eat.
For now I ask no more
Than the justice of eating.

From "The Great Tablecloth" by Pablo Neruda
(Trans. By Alastair Reid)

(From HERE)

~Masato