those were the busy bustling days
of the cities
where people have no places
to go home
and laundry themselves in parties
of friends
and friends of their friends
till the wee hours
got fed up of those days
of smoke and beer
and now i am back to the silence of
this little town of
my birth
the trees are shedding off their leaves
the cows are giving birth
the birds black and white fly on the skies
and perch on a tree
enjoying the ripe fruits
today i am going fishing in the river
my sail boat is waiting
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem