The water runs dry
the eyes unlearned to cry
the boxes are open
and emptiness fills the end
the land becomes barren
awaits the beloved rain
oh when will this end
how many coins it has to spend
the tree loses its leaves
ah there is only one left
but it is about to drop
sad, seems nobody dares to catch
the birds can never fly
it seems it feel strange on the sky
the birds' wings has gone tired
oh pity, cries are in the hide
the pen has dried the ink
the paper refused any writing
nothing is in the beginning
nothing promise to be waiting
the mind becomes a mere spongy stuff
it doesn't work nor give any start
the head becomes an empty shell
drought has swallowed me so well
[madero9 august 2011naga]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem