Freedom - Poem by Anwer Ghani
I am an old farmer. I cannot see my figure only on the water face of our lovely rivulet . It was small like my dream, at that time I was child, dissolved in the butterfly colors. Oh the purity which they steal it, they take our smooth olive, make missile and death from it, then they told me that I am a serious criminal plants the olive.
Yes, such that, and without tiredness I shall repeat the birds songs, I shall not care about the world brassy face, nor the one-eyed city. Yes I shall learn the earth the rose voice, and the lonely winds will not find a place in my skin. I am a free bird, I love the mud smell, and I like the noon sun when it touch my face , may be because my father plant me with a wheat seed in our small garden.
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