I toss and turn
yearn for sleep,
undisturbed untroubled
for pleasant dreams
wide open skies
and lovely greens
clean fresh and unpolluted
brooks and streams undiluted
clean streets unlittered
smiling faces unworried unblemished
worry that when I wake,
my soul
I gave the Lord to take
has been polluted
by foul emissions
electric transmissions
skies littered with antennae
belching, pulsing, poisoning
I fear that when and if I
wake, my conscience gone,
the soul I gave in trust
was raped and soiled
by greedy economics
war mongering
criminals who
killed sleep
Lady McBeth
killed sleep, unlike others
she had
a conscience
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem