After The Fog Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
After The Fog
After the fog
All around
One can see,
Silhouettes
Of trees.
Hazy fog, beauty,
Beauty, beauty…
Listen well,
Can be heard,
Birds singing:
"Spring, spring."
Suddenly,
And shocking,
Something comes,
It moves by crawling.
A train is rolling,
On metal, or railing.
Hundreds of wagons
Closing sight like a wall,
Dead colors, very dull.
Yes, modern, but ugly!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 1:05:59 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
