I saw it in the faces
of homeless people
standing around drums,
with glowing coals
trying to get hot
at red-hot flames.
I saw it on the faces
of people living in villages
in a war zone,
that went forth with their lives
as if the war didn’t exist.
Still I wonder when
the new morning is coming
and every day,
I watch the horizon
and look at the blue sky above me
to see if You
do not appear on the clouds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem