The sky is Kabul isn’t always blue
Seemingly a texture of text, yet to be descended down
Love is always the synthesized ablution
Like saga tested in annihilative iteration
Transcending the lines of rhetoric
The sky of Kabul is often assuredly azure
Ingenious to lure for a low fly
History is heavily lopped with text into pieces, adages gone
Enduring edge of text, defining protracted moments of love
The sky isn’t always blue in Kabul!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem