Carvings
There are names of people; places, occasions
That are carved like markings on trees
With a heart or cross and, or date
Bearing cause
Omar is among them
Of childhood to recent
Renewed many times.
I recall dance in red
My mother and friends
“Omar died”
Time taught me.
I have learned:
“They had no idea.”
Then Kabul, the Mullah with one eye
(And others with same name in between)
Now young man, the released
I read and see; I notice
This one too, is like first:
“We have no idea” just repeat.
We parrots and monkeys; just mimic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem