If we could lessen the noose
Around Russia's throat—
Leaven the loaves of wheat back
Now
Nurture the heartsong back
Now
Into the soil sow seeds
of forgiveness
for the children
Innocent flowers
Who do not know why
This suffering
Has come there
Is no more Joy
In the bird's songs
Learning to sing without food
For the bellies—
not warmth
In their hearts
Nor content minds
Nor sanity
Nor morphine—
Why
Do we hear the babies cry
When there is no Sun
That can heal them?
Can't the suffering
End—?
My heart has broken
before
But not like this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem