But cultures
Heat of sun brutal
Ruthlessly burns in, out
Each being, everyone.
Like my days in Shiraz
(Single man walking on)
See many, on roadsides.
Want to do, what he did
He stopped, gave me ride.
But cultures, are curtains
Bar me and, scare me.
I thanked him.
She may ask:
“What you want? ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem