With hammer and chisel in hand, Farhad
Did what did Ferdowsi, a treasure hunter
With words and heroes
But I read on the island, Pablo Neruda
I read Rilke in the so called Great War
All the same
Carving thought in caves as did our old
Ancestors, still strangers to jackhammer
They spoke to stone of the wall, as was
Farhad, till hammer landed on his head
Then he wrote with blood
I...?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem