No,
Never have we
seen the road map
to the red color fish
like,
We have not seen
the God in disguise
rescuing the doe
in the trap of the hunter,
the dog and the fire.
We move on a narrow lane
where a single click
everything hails at our feet
our pride and vanity
goes high
we are sorry only for
our drowsy eyelids blinking.
Tear accumulates
in the gutter of the history
one day will burst out a fountain
we all will stand and stare at.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem