It is not a fine morning, a storm this june
Sunk a boat killing some of my brothers
And they are not accounted by this government,
Complaints are made and they are not heard,
And remedies are not afforded, and always this
Event happens with everybody from the senator
To the mayor of the town gets a babble,
A da da da da da da da A da da da da da da da
A da da da da da da da A da da da da da da da
And so what has been done? I do not read the papers
I do not take a pair of scissors, I do not choose any article
And cut it and put all the pieces on a bag and close the bag
And shake all the cut pieces and then I throw all the
Pieces from the top of the building in the city
Like a confetti and there I shout, at the top of my voice
This is what is happening and nothing is done
We are all falling like pieces like pieces like
da da da ado
do do do ada
da da da da
Arriving at nothing at all, babbles getting out of the bag
Now emptied of words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem