Let me weave the carpet of fury,
With angry sighs and rumbling sobs.
With thoughts firing thunder claps,
And a soul...
Dragging painfully like a wounded snake
Across the endless plains of sorrow,
Struggling, suffering, groaning and moaning
Nobody hears,
The sound of wind drowns all the noise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem