My mattress
That old flat cotton filled and beaten rectangle
Knotted in occasions, here-there
Is no more
In those days
Mother rolled and folded
Spread every night
And pillows
One, two, more
And we; kids
Siblings and cousins
Hurdled on to sleep
Stories and fables
All were mixed with the myths
And bluffs
With laughter
With fear
It's no more
It's no more
It's no more
I saw it in sky
It was torn
Cotton balls were silver at the dawn
Then turned red
It was shaped like the heart of a cow
My mattress
Old flat cotton filled, and beaten
Memories and culture and our way
Is torn and turned cloud in sky
Powerless, I'm engaged
Don't know why
Want it back
I can't grab
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem