When I was five year old,
A man used to come,
To home from far,
Selling balloons and pipes,
Sitting down and telling stories
Of his far away land and home,
He coming for many years,
Peaceful, always smiling,
Playing with children,
But alas! look at the same Kabul
Filled with bombers, gunners,
Spreading violence everywhere,
What time, thous hast done
To this peaceful land,
Which used to be so tranquil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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