Western Edge of the Village

Do you remember this old image, big brother?
Of our village with endless summer.
Where old farmers tenderly tending their rice fields
in the evening, and lively kids flying a large kite next to a river,
as the mosque howling with a call for prayer.
And familiar wind blowing, stroking our hairs,
as we ran toward nearby small kiosk, without care.
A still movie of our day when the time were still