I see trees
filled with green
swaying in the wind;
like people on the move
arms waving sadly in goodbyes,
telling me a story that someday soon
the journey will end with that final stop;
at that station that seemed so far, far away
only a few decades ago, when we laughed and romped
across those asphalted lanes back home on rickety bicycles,
wielding that cricket ball crashing through someone’s glass pane.
(Riyadh, Saudi Arabia,2007)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem