Confined in a small cell
He stares into the distant sky
Through the strong iron bars, indifferently.
Life is meaningless, unbearable torture
Both mentally and physically.
But to survive for the dearest kid
Lives in his own country.
With tearful eyes and sighs
He shouted loudly breaking the silence,
'I am not a spy
Believe me, my dear child.
I am not a spy.
I crossed the border
While enjoying scenic beauty.
I know you are toddling
Searching me all around.
Perhaps calling p-a-p-a
Stretching your tender hands.
I kiss your smiling face cautiously
And keep you hiding in my chest
But they snatch away your photo
How can I live my dear child?
I do not know what is in store in my fate
I do not know when I will be free
Till then only we are to wait….wait…. and wait.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Unique and excellent. The pain and cherished desire of an innocent confined man has been best expressed. Thanks for sharing such a poem. Tapas, West Bengal, India