hands with veins like vines
creeping up the banyan tree
piling hollow blocks filled with
mixed cement and sand and
pea-sized gravel building this
high concrete post and 8-layered
wall between our two houses
my good neighbors with
square faces do not have
the ability to use kind words
like they are new aliens from
another galaxy 10 light years
away from my bamboo bench.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem