His nostalgia
In long chats
A feeling, deep and sad
Moves slow; creek-like, tail of rat…
What?
What?
What?
Repeats, turns and evolves
As if Sun, Moon or Earth, satellite
Come along season-change, day and night!
And with it:
What?
What?
What?
-do not know…
He replies:
-is in me
-know it is
-don't know what!
Was born to First Nations
Then taken
Adopted by the Whites…
-they are nice
-gave, took love
-but that loss…
-do not know what it is…
-is what kills
-nostalgia
He says and sets his sun
Silent he, eager I
Our world dark
I wonder:
-what would be if he too…
I stop…but cannot…
-…was raised by his culture?
Could have been better but…
Could be worse…
Without the nostalgia…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem