A Storm with a Nickame
we were passing the night like
a storm with a nickname
houses were blown apart,
for the unbelievers of love
this was our shanties.
these streets of toppled trees,
electric posts and lines,
scavengers forgarbages and trash cans,
our jeers over the destructions,
your howl at the wild air,
uprooting gardens secured within their walls,
terrible the night with these terrible powers,
now the city is a bruised face,
lumped into this sad condition,
the mouth droops with sinking harbors,
even the air lanes,
the flighty euphorias which used to control us,
left for further assessments.
the populace are an agony to face,
this was unprecedented,
this matrimony with vows,
is slaughter the only way out of a marriage?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem