In my childhood
We used to wander,
All lands knew our steps
And all the birds heard our laugh
Your silken hair,
Soft skin,
Thin legs,
All were charming.
Once I had a dream
Of Madagascar,
That amazing Baobab tree
Which we sat under it
I could take no photo
To show you to others
As nobody could believe you
So I painted
That silken dark hair
Thin legs and oval eyes
By my magical pencile
Then you were born
My dear pony
Now you're as old as me,
But thereafter,
We havent had a journey,
I am lost
Under that Baobab tree,
Desolated,
I didn't have to
Show you to others
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem