Don't go. Stay with me
At least as the fate of the third world.
Yet the train will be on it's course
Leaving behind a weeping noon.
Utterly skeletal and emaciated noon.
Every night the widow and her craving
will both lean against the all-hole tree
called the third world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't go. Stay with me At least as the fate of the third world. so you are concerned with the third world. good Mr. Mazhar. Good poem.
Thanks for your kind appreciation Mr. Ahmed Gumaa Siddiek