A weeping willow

Dedicated to  Arlette Péronne from the beautiful town Lodeve, France

Fahredin Shehu

20 March 2012

A weeping willow

I approached the river

On the place where my sister

Left her broken bough

And my long billow hair

Washing the dust of ages

Weeping I listen again

The syllables of the wind

Echoing the smile of my child

Which opens the gates of Paradise?

With the shriek of the golden latch

Hushed up

Alas what happen to the voice?

That pierces my trembling heart

I know how far you left

And I see hobbits bewildered

All around asking

Why I still not mourn

But pain within burns as Lava

And I’m just a Mother

Don’t you hear my sobbing?

©Fahredin Shehu, March 2012