My Exile ( poem by Aso Jabar)

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By: Aso Jabar


My soul is brimful from a storm of a dream

A sorrow of an Autumn will take me

I turn to the rain and I will rain on a tryst of a garden

Drop drop

I will pour under the feet of an Autumn flower

I will pass between the lines of those slept leaves

That lifted from the soul of autumn

Even the trees are high

They will be washed by the rain

Even the gardens are big

Cannot bear of an autumn dream

My heart is full of broken emeralds

A storm of love is taking me

To a vinous street

To an autumn city

Full of gardens and empty of gathering

Full of streets and empty of friends

Full of yearning and empty of humans


My heart’s love like a taciturn hell

Cold like sorrows of an evening exile

Streets like a huge cage

Brimful of birds and gaze


Trees dryer are gazing at their shadows ….

Oh how we are eerie ….


Translated by: Shillan Jabbar