I am a wetland
I am a wetland,
To the lotus and fish, and dreams.
But my bridle from iron and
My horse from wood.
Twenty centuries in my blood,
Full of amok, fire and war.
O my sorrow heart,
The lashes hurt and the silence
They rushed your death.
I thought your shield from iron,
So I left, the arrows of treachery,
Pleasure of aiming.
Oh my heart's delusions..
How can you run over the flames?
You were a land of joy
You were a bird dance on
The top of mountains.
Ah what a stone that hit my heart
I became a land of oppression,
I became a land of sorrow.
Tell me O God..
Who will bring back to me,
The smell of lotus and dreams?
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Comments about this poem (I am a wetland by Fatima Nusairat )
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