I walked about in downtown,
My old friends spotted me,
Asked me to tea with them,
We sat in the room facing the road -
Nāllah Mār in my childhood days,
We talked about swimming in the stream,
We talked about raising slogans -
Mëëm Sahab salām, patá patá gôlām,
We talked about turtling with the opposite team,
Under the bottom of Dungaboats,
We talked about going to picnics in Dungaboats,
We talked about untieing the vegetable vendors' boats,
Pleasantly drank and woefully moaned,
Over the loss of our heritage -
Our beautiful stream,
Passing through the downtown,
I drifted off peacefully,
Sprawled out on the bank of Nallah Mār Road
Mykoul
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