Help me write
Small piece of cloth; pure white;
I in Jeep; Iran-made; a pickup
Named ‘Deer’ or ‘Ahoo’
Everyone ran away, I entered.
What a risk
I am the, talked about:
Lion-heart; a donkey in his mind
Yes I do everything
Death; warning and caution means nothing
I have been in the wars; and revolts
In class, race-in-ride.
I guess God was drunk
When dad went, to my mum.
What is the bullying; and bullied?
On both sides I have been
Crazy, out of mind; I became an Afghan.
Have ID and degree, had passport.
In desert, journalist; a poet; and I taught.
What am I?
It was hard seeing hands on the reels
To flies were runways: “touch and go”
It was tough, sitting there, observing
Man tried; after words, bullets, death.
It was hard seeing them like mules
(To feed wife and the child)
It was hard watching them
Sell household, to feed mouth, last drop.
I went in when others ran away
They came out…
I must write of flag at border, and plight;
The burdens and the things in Rabat
I saw kids under bombs, in blood
The borders emptied, for the war
I left home, and crossed; and arrived
To the land of Afghans…torn by war.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem