THE STRANGERS
These
flowers are ours,
these
gardens are ours,
this earth
is ours,
and
motherland is ours,
even then,
we have
neither any home,
nor a
shelter to live in,
it looks as
if,
we were
strangers,
in our own
homeland!
Poetry by: Murlidhar
Translated by:
Jam Jamali
Comments
Post a Comment