at time of weary dusk,
from the side of twilight zone,
a gush of unbidden gust
came in wailing lone.
dry foliagess from boughs of autmn rust,
soar up in unbridle exult.
beside the boughs of grumble
whose leaves were long forsaken,
stand a pole with my nations flag
lay tall in high.
he too strife hard to soar
with gust of freedom.
but plight of nationless,
flag of nationless people,
he too was forever shackeled on pole.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem