Come to life
No,
Not ever will forget
So get up talk to me brother
Talk to me and tell me I am right.
I recall when he came; you had gone.
He on knees, sat hugged us.
As older, he handled
He broke the news, not direct.
Two ribbons on our chests
Yahya, I
And poem that he sang:
“Nightingales want grass, I want my brothers.”
He meant say:
“I know what I have lost.”
You were gone he turned soft
I recall, for five days I cried.
Now get up and tell me:
“You were right.”
In this age confidence is blur not bright.
Then eight, nine; now older many times.
Between us is James Joyce
He orders: “You must write.”
Long is gone, things have changed
So remind to do right; you must talk.
Come to me brother, day or night.
Memories, which I felt as a child
Showed you man; to my eyes.
Was I right? Am I right?
I can’t say…you must talk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem