I am going home
To meet my folks
Those I know and those I do not know
I have been told about three of them
Where I am going I do not know
But that's where they said home is
And on that day leaves will overwhelm flowers
Birds will of nectar desire in vain
For the rose will be gone
By then I will be blind
And deaf and mute
All that the wind mutters
Shall blow upon a rock
And no turning back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem