lucky palm tree still standing tall
full of fruits, prancing to rising sun
i will climb it and take down some
for me, my friends and whoever comes
small pretty bungalow has been gone
i have no choice but build another one
too tired to even think or very scared
i pick few palm leaves for my shelter
gather seaweeds for my bed mattress
dried woods for fuel for night to come
keep away hungry roving dogs away
while i will slip a sleep in harmony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem