Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
One flower overpowers everything that grows alike,
Two seasons evacuate the public for as many seconds
As the bliss surrounding us.
This year we grow our fields of barley,
Crops will turn to the hungry customers
So solid in their youth.
A sliding war erases the return
Of so many soldiers burdened
By the growth of so many flowers and plants
So welcoming to the eye.
Rivers of tears swell up, dying
Shall be the result of all this.
One has a flower of religion and
The growth overpowers the learned
So that a new episode arises
And begets new moments
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