Wandering useless
Standing full naked, in small balcony
I observe passing cars, the walkers; silent trees
In my hand a plate, on it eggs, potatoes
Far my thoughts, in Kabul and birthplace in Iran
I hear air crash and death of hundreds
Capitals send blames, and sorrows with threats
"I'm cheating, stealing rights of poor
Their skins are not mine, is for use, to consume."
I feel sad, I feel bad and also angry
Bad exam, I'm useless, ambitious, still nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem