i stood at the entrance
of rijks and sighed, i thought
to myself, eventually
the night watch can
sleep undisturbedly
i'v had this museum card
for about two years
without profiting from it
i don't curse this lock down
don't feel pity for the planes
haven't flown for months
don't blame the politicians
who plant brambles to
hide themselves behind
them and scare children
still sky bestows on me
fresh bread, stream pouring
me cold water and freedom
and my cat, entertaining
the milky way, meowing
at the waning moon
while museums are closed
i stand at the gate of
the blackberry bush
thinking of writing a poem
on the memory of the
melting flowing snow
fraidoon warasta
17 february 2021
limburg
…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem