neither could he stay
nor run
the stairs keep that door
closed
and the windows are
framed-up
the curtains hush
but their tongues are cut
neither could he run
nor stay
so what he did
is fly away
a broken winged bird
low on the plains
asking the mercy
of the grasses
wishing the journey
of the rivers
dreaming the wanderings
of the clouds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem