I am that bird perched silently on a branch
And watched everything as it came to pass
So I sat in that abandoned and gloomy ranch
Somewhere in and around that land of grass
I am that old man who came from the forest
Every dusk with a broken stuff to tell a story
And not to be seen again till many days and the rest
Perharps untill the reborn of another story
I am the ghost that stood by
And watched everything as it unfolded
As the days like fox were very sly
The years like elephant trodded by
I came from a different time and space
Some call me Peter the great witness
Others say am a born story teller by face
But I, I am just a story teller!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem