I now fear the sun and open spaces
I don’t see people – only faces
I don’t hear meaning – just the words
As if the shriek of angry birds
These days, I hear a noise and cry
Frightened I’m about to die
Since when it happened I don’t know,
For I was in Guantanamo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, this is a good one.