A chicken fence in the dusty ground
is still standing there as a bound
beyond the hill, under the sun
where all my life befell undone
became my life long holiday
that prison in Guantanamo bay
there each forgot I had my right
to freely see the sky at night
and when I had nothing to confess
well, they just could not care less
head in a bucket, feet in the air
but could not ever gauge my despair
there all my life dully dissolved
while the whole world slowly revolved
now for your cultural holiday
take a trip to Guantanamo bay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem