The babbling of a thousand men
Surround me in this place
I understand not one word
Nor recognize one face
Nuts are roasting in the streets
Strange spices temp my nose
Men bark bargains as I walk by
Hoping I pause as I go
Oriental rugs catch my eye
With colors and patterns bright
A gleaming eye, “A sale my friend? ”
I’m sorry, not tonight
Exotic fruits and meat and clothes
Here are brought to sell
But I’m just here to look around
Before my ship sets sail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem