that boy by the window
had long been gone
it dreamt of snow but there is no snow
here where the tropic of cancer lies
where summer is as hot as burning coal
where pigs are slaughtered and
grilled for a family affair
where the girls dance with their father
where boys run and catch dragonflies
where the river sometimes dry up
where wells need to be dug up deeper,
that boy who dreamt of snow knows
from where it comes
the book that mother bought
from London
he had never learned how to walk
and throught out his life the sourness sticks....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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