Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Voice of the Exile

Not a Children's Song

No matter where I travel,

I go to Nowhereland.

The suitcase full of knowing,

Just knick-knacks in my hand.

As lonely as the desert wind,

As homeless as the sand.

No matter where I travel,

I come to Nowhereland.
 

The forests are all gone now,

Each home a firebrand.

Found no one left whom I know,

Not one knew me first-hand.

And when the alien bird screeched loud,

I ran, could not withstand.

No matter where I travel,

I come to Nowhereland.



by Mascha Kaléko

1 comment:

John A Tran said...

A good post. It captures the plight of the exile or refugee.