Nostalgia is no Utopia,
But it is a land you can visit
At any season, for any reason,
Without worrying about a visa
Or boarding pass or stay permit.
But read the small print at the back
Of the tourist promotion booklet:
‘Visitors are advised to quit
Before the State Eviction Squad
Suspects that you deserve the sack'.
They march you into a narrow room,
To be sentenced to a life in gloom,
A cell of mirrors all around,
Without a window or a sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem