Ernest Orwell
"Why do I like these guys? "
Was question; on my mind
I searched, searched and at end:
"These two men are your kind,
They are the going outs…"
Insiders, in themselves,
Even if good thinkers
Can't be mine; not so much.
I like to roam and walk
On water, thorn and rock
I like pain when is shared
With others as if herbs…
Like Ernest Hemingway
Also like George Orwell
And those who are as them
In Iran and here, anywhere…
To breathe we need air
Stagnant is the air in bottle…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem