I Weep Profusely For The Southern Coast Of Haiti Poem by Hebert Logerie

Hurricane Matthew came like a brutal savage.
This monster has ravaged everything on stage,
Stabbed us in the heart, and destroyed all in its path:
Our cities, houses, beaches and the beauty of our past.

I weep for Anse d'Hainault, Les Baradères and Jeremie.
I weep for Petit Trou de Nippes, Torbeck and Dame-Marie.
I weep for Vieux Bourg d'Aquin, Les Cayes and Moron.
I weep for Anse-à-Veau, Les Irois and Trou Bonbon.

The cyclone, with stormy winds and waves, has killed
Thousand of our citizens. This mass murderer and devil
Did not spare children, cripples, elders, and has caused
Unbearable sufferings and spiritual pain for all on the coasts.

I cry for Petit-Goâve, Trouin L'Ile -à-Vache and Pestel.
I cry for Belle-Anse, Aquin, St. Jean du Sud and Marigot.
I cry for Gabriel, Grand Boucan, Anse-à-Pitre and Apricot.
I cry for Pointe-à-Paquette, Source Chaude and Jacmel.

Many of our friends have become victims and homeless.
Things are ten times worse than before this hellish mess.
Our poor country is no more, now it's a desert, a deep hole,
With an uncertain future, and a poorly man-made hope.

Our rivers are overwhelmed, and our plains devastated.
Our trees are burned by the wind, and our water contaminated,
By toxic substances that have polluted the air already iffy,
By ignorance, negligence, indifference and impunity.

I weep for Thiotte, Port Salut, Chardonnières and Tiburon.
I weep for Les Anglais, Banane, Beaumont, and Roseaux.
I weep for St.Louis du Sud, Bainet, Grand Goâve and Coteaux.
I weep for Maniche, Asylum, Pointe-à-Gravois, and Cavaillon.

Our roads are blocked, our plants and trees defeated.
Our hills and mountains are bare and debilitated.
Our cities are drowned, our countryside flooded,
And our meager harvest lost, and our crops wasted.

I cry for Lenaire, Moron, Port-à-Piment and Grand-Gosier.
I cry for the Cayemites, Camp-Perrin and Miragoâne.
I cry for Dossous, Chantal, Côtes-de-Fer and Cahouane.
I cry for Torbeck, Roche-à-Bateau and the Valleys.

I cry for the cities and the suburbs, which I could not recite.
I weep for the municipalities and towns, which are not on sight.
I cry for the gardens, beaches, plants, valleys, and the plains.
I weep for the shadows, hills, paths, trails, and the cantons.

I weep. I cry profusely for a myriad of reasons.
I cry for countless terrible and painful seasons,
For the dead flowers, and the murdered leaves,
For suffocating the soil, and for the headless trees.

I cry, because we are now a bunch of destitute.
In a flash, we witnessed the loss of our properties,
Our aspirations, our smiles, and our memories;
Our dreams, our past, our hope, and our future.

I'm crying. Let me weep for the patient Haitian people,
Who supported, tolerated, suffered and endured a bundle.
I cry for the landscape and the mountains that used to be green,
And for our siblings scattered all over the world, like lichens.

I cry. I weep for Haiti, who is our Mother, our Country.
I weep for our Land, our Martyr, because we are Haiti.


Copyright © October 17,2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.