Crushed leaves are littered
Across the yard
And rotten seeds smelling
Like burnt curry
Shadows are stuck on the
Walls with macabre faces
Mist hangs like a curtain
With pictures of guns and
Mortars, cannons and balls
Fruits drop down from the
Branches all rotten
The sun sleeps like a child
Behind the clouds
Time ahead is not good and
I am living in curses
Certainly there is a monster
Present in my yard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem