Land of poets

LAND OF POETS

My homeland,

Blessed with beauty,

On crest-topped peaks

Breathes poetry into the skies.

Three thousand years ago,

My ancestors,

On clay tablets,

Wrote poetry…

It’s said the Babylonians

Learned from my forebears.

When the tablets were lost,

They wrote their names in the skies

And grew their stature

With the heights of the mountains…

The letters transformed into trees,

The trees into traps

For the wicked enemy…