Gallows are hanging again by daylight
Fire burns the skin from propanoic fuel;
Surviving men are thrown down river bight
In the midst of this 'chanting mist, I dwell.
On the venomous sea we sail'd away
With the storm, we moved to the white-man's plains;
Tossing and swinging a pendulum's way
Centri' we go, felt the neck biting-chains.
Once or twice, I heard agonizing screams
Followed by soothing swaying warmth from whips.
Met peace once in hallucination dreams
Stung whips awoke the opium from my lips.
Goodbye, to our fathers claying huts
Goodbye, to our mothers loving hugs
And the nagging 'boom' as she pounds her pots;
Farewell, to the farms, trees and biting bugs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem