my sister is
bitter
and i patiently
listen
to her
anger
i am in a
hammock
and i look at the
sky
between the spaces
of leaves
of the trees
father taught me
a lesson
my son always see the
forest
and not just the trees
the bitterness of my sister
is long and wide
and i begin to imagine
a road
an old road that father and
i used to walk on
past seven summers
on those drought of our lives
where many
goats and cows
died
the bitterness of my sister
shows
in her anger against the young
how they live
a life of fun and then
the years of
misery
i did not listen much
misery is not my cup of tea
i have thoughts for all of those
who still keep love
amidst the hate
who still smile amidst the crying
crowd
i have my thoughts like doves
that fly away
to the blue skies of my youth
till the orange sunset
of my death.
my sister is the bitter one
as always
i did not listen much to her woes
because i have freed
myself from my own bitterness too
i am forgiving
and i have forgiven
what misery had offered me
for i have long told myself
nothing lasts forever
no one knows
no one knows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem