A poor village of mine

The night had already passed

The dawn cracked

The sun risen, high above in the sky

drowning else where in its light

However, over the poor village of mine,

Hung a thick, dark, giant fog,

The poor fellow villagers, frightened

Hidden inside the dark shacks

expecting a wind to blow, come over

drive the fog away , make the sun shine,

So many years passed, since then,

A voice came out from no where, after all

Hey, fellow villagers, come out,

Don't be frightened of the fog,

Take deep breath, bring up mouths together

Fill up your lungs, unite

Blow out at once, make a wind strong,

break up the ghostly fog,

So the sun shines on the village again,

A garden of flowers blossom in every corner,

Then,

Grab brooms, shovels altogether,

beat up, smash the lazy dark

And spit on the creepy, smelly fog

So the sun on the village of mine last

Forever and bright

flower gardens blossom

in the poor village of mine

By : dr. Azizullah Faryabi