A Poem on the Walls I would like to write a poem on the damp and ancient walls of my city, people always run, time challenges their steps with such great speed. I’d like to write some verses, to be enjoyed while smoking a cigarette, to be read while sipping coffee, a line in one’s mind will remain. A short poem whose every verse highlights the joy, light, and love, awakening the people and the cold city walls from their long slumber. The Slippers of Solitude The spectacle is over tonight. The curtain has been lowered, the actors—friends, girlfriends— are finally back home. All the spectators have left. The hall is clothed with darkness. This long theatre of hypocrisy keeps repeating from the past. It’s late and I have to flee now to my silent and quiet refuge. Near the sofa, they’re waiting for me, my slippers of solitude. Without a Homeland What are you looking for on the shore, shreds of memories or brok...