Probably it was the last night,
when stars were in sight.
the moon was full,
And did shine bright.
Since then begun a tale of fright,
To hurt me more, situations arrived.
With each crossing day,
They broke me more inside.
And with each dying hope,
I again and again died.
I died with every loss,
and each imposed disguise.
I died speaking truth,
and died when I lied.
Not once not twice,
On my plight I cried.
Its a burning land,
and barefoot I tried.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful and poignant poem.. Thank you..