Winter bed
With every word I read
-in the books, on trips,
- (warriors' and spies
-to set up trends, lines
-on borders, literature,)
-I think of Guevara,
-Masood and Osama.
They must have read a lot
-heavily and too much.
Then think of Babushka
-on a "Petch", lying down.
Then with her and the books
-leap in time, go too deep
-into what must've been.
Since have had trips in extensive
-am gifted, opened eyes, can see
-the ancient (what remained)
-and ruined to be church
- (from which I suffer!)
Yet, the mosques and churches
-by themselves are great.
Now I miss travels
-need little freedom
-from hell of papers
-and money; am in debt.
I must go to rest of
-places and repeat
-seeing what I have seen,
-relive and revive the memories.
I need to travel
-travel breaks walls
-of me and my nation
-or you and your anthem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem