The Stranger - Poem by Mehri Mehraban
Here, people, smells and colors
Sound familiar ordinary objects to me.
I counted the windows and rooms,
Even, the bricks, my home consist.
I enjoy everything at my home
Gazing its landscape, listening to native dove.
I love, neighbor's accent and jokes
I know, when they fight, die or to make love.
I'm accustomed to all of these
Alas, no enough I feel comforter
whenever I reveal my dream and heart
I'm punished: 'go away, fool stranger'.
Comments about The Stranger by Mehri Mehraban
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You