Country Where Begging is Banned

We have endured the noise

Of the long days. We have walked

The nights through the black haze.

On one solstice we have yearned for

The nightly hour, on the other one we

Have prayed for the night to be over.

And on the equinox, toiling in the

Barren fields under the white sun, we

Have waited for the sun to set

Tearing the meniscus of the horizon.

In toil and despair our days have passed.

We have waited enough with no hope to last.

Looking at the threshold that separates

Us from the crystal sky that stands

Lofty...we have sighed in our cages

Of misery. Dreams-yours and ours are still

So same. What can hold these longings

From leaving us inane? Visions carry to

Us glimpses of faraway lands. But, when

We open our eyes all we possess are

These rough scorched hands.

We are hopeless people, tired of searching

For what to believe in. When there is no

Virtue for our lot how can there be any sin?

We can’t mumble the same prayer now,

“God have mercy on our state”. We can’t

Gather our faith again and decide to wait.

Between the heaven and the earth, we move

Carrying with us our own wails. And

When we are gone we leave vestiges

Of no trails. We have seen the dead among

Us who vanished un-buried in the sand

In this country where begging is banned. . .