Suckle down my honey gatherer
for you are the whisper in my dreams
these days are staminate
bloody bruised and obscene
Collect the shores of heaven
on your little finger tips
fragrant nectar perfume
stained red flower your next hit
Flutter humbly amongst the breeze
going about your daily bread
the lose lipped cannon fires
taking your forest with its lead
For you are now without a home
in the madness of this rush
for humanity has destroyed your life
now bullets, blood you gush.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem