curiosity drives you to open the door
go outside the fence
and enter a new territory
it is an island of women with breasts
and flowers
with heads and eyes of men
their vocabulary is made of man's terms
the grammar and syntax
muscular, yet deep within upon a close scrutiny
as you see it clearly
their hearts are still soft and fragile
they bleed real blood
when you remind them of their
births, their childhood, and how they grow
to be always alone
they do not show the signs of a sigh &
as you enter their circle you are met with nothing
but their own woes
you speak
and then they throw you stones
definitely, there is no place for you here
the one with the short curly hair
shortsighted and emaciated
makes it very clear
now you are back in your own world
and you realize
things are just perfect
and the air is not as cold as ice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very good mr. ric! nice poem... as always!