that little house by the hill
which father constructed where
a little boy was looking over that
little window had long been gone.
that little boy was gentle and good
that house however was not that strong.
both parents died years ago and the
little boy had been taken away from
perhaps relatives from another place.
the place by the hill had changed a lot
and i was lost and could not recognize
anymore any piece of that buried past.
there was one spot there where a big
mango tree grew with lots of fruits
where we all enjoy picking the ripe
ones lying on the thick and tall grasses.
i could not locate it anymore.
i am lost and now finding my own way
back to another place where i belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem