This is
What a sad day
Premonitions
Resonating
Like vultures
The cold morning
Which is not
“Dead yet alive”
It is dead
With heavy foot steps
Against the universality
Of nature
The whole city
Conversed with souls
Who were gone
Three days back
And no one
Called them martyrs
Did any one
Gave a name
To the innocent
Victims of war
In holy wars
There are many sirens on the way
They say
This time
The gourmet shop
2/11/2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem