the town as usual
misses the noise of the
microphone
wanting to see boxing
bouts not just during
the Feasts
but also on ordinary days
this is only second
to gambling
those fighting cocks
that dominate
the itinerary
of the month
and all
the poor men gather
and try their luck
to get rich
even for a day
the church is nearby
and its bells are silent
copy paste
the silence of the
cemeteries
despite, this is still
the little town that i write
about
and i ask if i love it
or does it love me too?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem