Be Proud Poem by Naveed Akram
Be Proud
Be pride and poison for it,
Poor is the friar who took.
Pleasure is soon, sooner than ever,
When bones are picked by the vultures
Over our heads that speak of those ones that fly nearby.
Be proud and in the death of others be proud
Against a fountain of rifles and ammunition,
These are the guns we lift to our eyes and let vultures fly to die.
The monks are not in the vicinity, like hairy monks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/24/2024 11:51:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
