In faraway lands,
Submerged in agonizing remote realities
Where the glazing sun is of muddy reflection,
The air begrimed by a rain of warm weapons
Depositing a shadow of sorrow
On dear motherland.
The disheartened cry of a mother can be heart
Among the nameless streets.
A sore pain, so profound and yet silenced by unspeakable loss
In their cherished land
Where merriment once lived
Where once
A momentum of progress timidly flourished,
Now all decamped
Just a glimpse of former bliss that once was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem