Flamingo
Flamingo
That you sing…
You know well
Rosario
Now is yours, no worries
They murdered the owner
Your song of Libya
Solely yours, no claim
She has died under bomb
That land is bed flood
Of blood
You go on:
“It is mine.”
But please remember
Our graves, soon or late
Will become the walkway
For crimes; criminals
As are theirs
Unless with
Love and care
The art of devotion
Think of the, Africa
The Andes; Libya,
And Iraq, Assyria
Afghan and Palestine
And so on, and so on
Love is ours
Art is ours
All bloods’
Regardless
Of borders
We are one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem