They gagged his mouth,
Bound his hands to the rock of the dead
And said: Murderer!
They took his food, clothes and banners,
Cast him into the condemned cell
And said: Thief!
They drove him away from every port,
Took his young sweetheart,
Then said: Refugee!
O you with bloodshot eyes and bloody hands,
Night is short-lived,
The detention room lasts not for ever,
Nor yet the links of chains.
Nero died, Rome did not:
With her very eyes she fights.
And seeds from a withered ear
With wheat shall fill the valley.
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Comments about this poem (On Man by Mahmoud Darwish )
- Gentle Laughter, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- PH: Nature: Canoeing the Mississippi #5, Brian Johnston
- Existence Of An Only Time, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Diwali..., DRASHI SHAH
- Season And Interest, George Egba
- Heart Turned To Stone, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Flying October, Vinaya Joseph
- অলস কবি, Yakub Ali
- Intimately Caressed, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- চান যা পাবেন তা!, Md. Ziaul Haque
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