Nostalgia
Insects’ cries,
Even the weeping of blood,
Fade away on the wooded hills,
Each night silence sweeps over them like waves across a desert.
The nostalgia soaked into my body paints my old hometown
The rice field ridges,
The furrowed ditches.
When twilight brims over,
Children who tended and herded cattle
Wander in search of their missing cows,
And oh, how sweet it was to hear the cuckoos call among the birds.
***
향수
풀벌레
피울음마저
죽어간 언덕숲을
밤마다 적막은 사막처럼 파문지우고
몸에 밴 노스탈지어는 고향집을 그린다
논두렁
고랑 고랑
황혼이 듬뿍차면
소치는 아이들 소를
찾아 헤매고
뭇새들 두견새 울음 듣기도 좋았더니만
_________________
Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"
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