On the land of my heart
Where once seeds were sown and it rained,
My harvest turned to dust,
And my dwelling shattered.
Those who used to reside within me,
Who used to be mine,
Neither their names were spoken
Nor did any trace remain.
The secrets hidden in my heart,
The untold stories that were there,
That book burned down,
And became its tomb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem