Naneh baba
In morning
I drive
roads are jammed
bump to bump
slowness gives me time
on each side
see angles and the curves
even cars.
Free, wild
fly thoughts
I am child
my walk is dream-like.
On his beast older man
passes by.
"What is there? "
I question
he is cold
also firm.
Shocked I go on
speed up
as man said
Dad is there
and cries
we have lost grandma
I recall
she was nice
patiently she watched us
and always wore smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem