Call it forgiveness,
When you haunt me with memories of wrongs I did
Forgetting the confessions I made
And you, you said it’s okay – that we can start afresh
Call it joy,
When you take photos of shivering kids by the sewage
With bottles of glue stuck in their mouth
To keep them warm, as you exclaim: Nice shot!
Call it annoying
When I point my finger at you
Because you splashed water on me
While you drove mindlessly through the water-logged road
Call it madness
When I share the little I have
With those who lack
Because Fortune’s Wheel has not yet come their way
Call it pleasure
When you engage in slanderous talk
Demeaning the orphans and widows
As if they had a choice
Call it what you want
As long as you’re egoistic
As long as you’ve lost conscience
And all that matters to you is you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem