Lost in the City of Freedom
I am as small as a thumb
My FAITH is as meager
as my pointer finger
But LOVE is great
And my middle finger is that great lover
Ring finger is the HOPE which
competes with love
Pinky finger of what I know is
Art, music and literature
is what I only have.
And sometimes it burdens me as a thumb
Each finger crawls its steps in the blinding sunlight
Dreams are all that is floating in my palm
The hand is lost in the City of Freedom
Though it just feels good and right
to be lost
in the City of Freedom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice lines....about your city of freedom about which you care a lot liked