the big window
of the house
by the breakfast
table
from the perspective
of the child
without a mother and
a home
shows it a picture
of family and
opulence and it looks
at this picture
with full envy and
sadness
mixed like a salad bowl
of bitter gourds and
sour grapes
drenched with
vinaigrette and
rotten olives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem