Death walks these streets...
The corner market bustles while still and silent.
A stray dog follows an unseen keeper.
A man opens fire from a rooftop,
Ghost tracers pass through me.
The wind blows his shadow away.
A child's laughter echoes from an alley...
She never returned from the market...
A single flower blooms in the bomb crater.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
stillness and a tragedy in this poem... i like the imagery