The sun sets with thousand emeralds and
Standing near the camp
broken speechless
I can't talk
They speak I don't understand.
But I feel
I feel my heart, beating close to my
throat in regular unmistakable
sound
we are same.
They say it is cradle of life
I don't understand
But I feel the mango trees
the wheeping grasses, long
dusty roads streached like
'The Wheat Field with Crows'.
I tried many times to touch
the vanishing shadow
As night falls
the walking ladies, laughing
and talking to me, I don't understand
But I feel
they don't understand.
note: 'Wheat field with crows' is one of famous painting by my favourite painter Vincent van Gogh, drawn in 1890.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tragic piece......words of a deported mind, ........