The owls are hooting
Nightjars are changing positions at dusk
On the roads
No matter what sinister forces join hands
It is not yet time for me to leave.
I will tarry in the stream
Allow alum to spread on the turbid water
And let me fetch limpid water
For my grand mama.
No one needs to hurry
In a journey of no return
I am a pebble from a sling
I will travel but to come back
Is like seeing the toad with a tail
I will travel in a train
That takes both rich and poor fare free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem