At the edge...
on the pristine shoreline
of Mussafah in Abu Dhabi
I stand and contemplate
for I kept telling myself
that you really don't want
to come to this place
as a trail of leaves
silently blew in front of me
I knew deep in my heart
you are like the others…
yet despite making myself busy
you keep coming back
I'm like these trees that waited
and waited for a long time
yet you refuse to fade
just like these leaves
that blew across my path
you refuse to wither
that left me think and ponder
the problem is really on me
and not on you."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem