Attitudes were what we had seen,
Looking for the gold in teeth,
Why were those girls so emaciated?
And while landing, we had sweats to our bottoms.
I did see some mulberry trees,
The thunder was too hard to hear,
These rustling of leaves had some sweet memories.
I was rather going home.
Someone was laughing beyond a heavy weight,
She was carrying a child or holding school bag.
My eyes were telling me as if from steel,
They were still talking in whispers.
That girl known as Anasatzhya was so hospitable
She was so nervous,
She had seen many guests together
As she would tinkle the bell with her little hand,
What glow her eyes would emit,
She had not learned this from school.
From her mother's lap. Her cradle and home.
The worthy home that she would open with silver key.
Almaty, Kazakhstan.
June 12-18,2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem