You are not even my father
the birds peck on the rice grains
the children take turns in hitting them with their
stored stones
i tell them ' i never hit a bird with a stone during
my entire life'
'we never intend to kill them,
we cannot eat them anyway
they're too small' a child explains
'we are just doing it for fun' another child added.
' do not stone a bird, you are hurting it. It is not hurting you' i answered.
'who are you? You are not even my father' he reasons out and
without saying any word further
he left scorn in one of those dead birds
which none of them picks
from the bloodied ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem