another day is coming
the sun is up
and a new wind is blowing
from distant lands
the trees have shed off
old leaves
the stones are washed by
the rain
a few old men have died and
have gone to the other side
of the great divide
the grandchildren are here
and would be burying them
it is Friday and soon it will
be another weekend here
a few neighbors are leaving
seeking some fun somewhere
we too are leaving for Jerusalem
then to Amman and Cairo
to see Gaza, and Bethlehem
to feel the sands and the olives
to renew what's old, to see
the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem