Aung Zin Min - Collection of Poems

When you are hungry

With strength

The sound of footsteps, the sound of rain

Clenched teeth, sweating profusely

Even though you have to work, you earn money.

If it's not balanced, the stomachs will become old.

Hold it.

Ironwork, shaped like a sword

Innovation, change in hand

They are struggling, they are starving.

To fill my stomach, I will fight.

I'm hungry too.

Even though I'm exhausted, I stop and share.

Not still, not dead.

They will revolutionize.

They will fight.

"When people are hungry, it's a storm."

A fair fight

Next to the pond

The sign said, " No fishing."

No fishing,

Protesting and blocking with signs

That case, analyze and study

If you look for a solution, it looks like this:

It seems like they saved a lot of fish.

See the sign.

If you think about it, the savior

Clap your hands, bless them.

I will give it to you.

I don't see the sign.

In the water, the fish

No desire for the Savior

They didn't show it, they just left it in the tank.

For keeping us captive.

Destroying dams, breaking up streams

To reach the river, to deliver

With a voice of request, to the pond's water,

A fierce battle is brewing..

Between the two layers

The dog is sleepy.

If you are a housewife

You can tell if someone is biting.

Oh Wai Journal,

January 15, 1969.

Between the two layers

The dog is sleepy.

If it's a house style

You can tell if someone is biting you.

Oh Wai Journal,

January 15, 1969.

Ingratitude

If the cows are tamed

Eat grass, with his strength

It feeds humans.

People

If only the cow, thank you.

But the grass is forgotten.

How foolish we are.

The Road to Poetry and the Last Journey

From the public side

Standing, life poem

I have written it.

I sent it to the editor.

The editor

Stylish, proud

Sitting up straight, wearing glasses

I continue, paper poem

After reading and examining the metaphor.

"It's too harsh, but the poetry is good."

Before me, I said

I returned the poem.

Rejection sheet

Holding it, I can't help but feel sad.

The strength that exists, has been gathered.

Another way, find it again.

I wrote a poem.

That poem is

No truth, only lies.

From the public side, free and clear.

The difficulty is hidden, but it is right.

Life is gone, beauty is still there

The blood pool disappeared, the water became clear.

Poetry etc.

The editor said, "I like it, I choose it."

He said with a laugh and a smile.

I can't stomach it.

Oh.. the editor

I like it, next month's edition.

Let's say it's poetry.

The people

If you read it, your life will be ruined.

My poem, the wrong path

Page

It's just going to be rejected again.