I brushed, woke and slept
Noone
no friends, no foes
the day and night breaks in;
like the rainbow after the Noah's fall.
Friends are like veins
one's second on the biblical man's rib
advocate of confidence,
friends should be honoured
if not blundered trying for too much,
they are divine.
Friends-
like piercing thorns in a cactus field;
foes,
associates of scornful propositions
friends should be honoured
suspiciously,
checked for balances.
They are here, there
like the earth-sand.
Where are my friends,
-mine friends?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem