Good Poem:When Uyghur on the street

When Uyghur on the street

Bazaar’s color will change,Strangers become acquainted,This is the Milky Way، not a street If the alive called, there comes the dead.

Enemy disliked and loneliness killed meGive me your hand, you, stranger.Absence, we were from and will to,What we lost will be blessed.I’ve gone abroad as UyghurAs if a century passed in a day.Friend, I won’t forgive you till the Last DayMy enemy, Forgive me If I wronged you in anyway.

Mane got lost from the yellowish papersBravery removed from the swordsman.The killed can’t see the killerPettiness got revenge on the braves.

A crown in our soul like the cockscombWe failed and this world today is a hen.Centuries came of age one after anotherBut listen girls, Uyghur won’t be growing old.

When Uyghur on the street with proudTrees are in sadness, graves in houses.Lust runs wild in solid landsDry silence is as a loud cry.

I go on the street as UyghurUnknown thrill, wet, hot bazaar.A thousand more times, I wanted to be UyghrMy love flows bubbling.