Poor immigrant
Far away have I been; and I am of Iran
But this time…
Sleepy and tired of working very hard
Took time off…
On my way met three laughing men
far apart in their seeds but still
friendly, united very much
all three were in love
with homeland
with Iran.
And I felt strange
Poor me an immigrant.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem