Where The Bush Is Still On Fire. Poem by Sebastian Soberania

how i wish to be eloquent in your language
so that i may be able to speak what i really mean
as a first attempt and then when
i master more its idioms i may begin speaking
what i do not really mean
so that you may look at me and i return your looks
with my stare that what i am telling you is far
from what i really want to say
because i have fears and that my life is in danger.

i am an alien to your land. I live here now. But my heart
is still there in my native land. Where the bush is still on fire.