the red bird had the same
experience as yours
you were told
soared to the
seventh sky and
dove
fearlessly on the water which
according to their final story
felt like an
iron wall smashing its tiny body
into mashed
meat
like a melon crashing
into the cemented
street of the city
you are a blackbird and
you always know
what to do
not listening to stories but still
learning a lot from
those who lived
to the full
you perched upon a twig facing the sea
felt the breeze
fell asleep....
the pain is not gone
it is still there, but who cares?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem