@ 2007-11-19 – 07:16:24
My Valley
Among silence of Zabarwan mountains
suffering was kept like treasure
graves fallen in love with young men
chinar leaves smell of blood in autumn
sun here may faint anytime
black Burqa clad women
protesting for nothing , for nothing dear , for nothing
all dissent voices been nailed to death
in the pink blossom of spring
in long summers
and in the dark winters
@ 2007-11-09 – 13:30:55
The time is running out
Grey colored pigions don’t visit me
I am still unpainted
Like the little girl
My reflection was not mine
The guy at the ATM works and study
The farmer in the hospital was sowing seeds
I was unwanted today by women
I didn’t see any planes today from my small window
The poor childen were runnig bare feet
Collecting the sweets on the festival
the water will be freezing on the mountains
Her eyes will have no more wet this winter
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