Safety Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Safety
Safety
Yes, true
Incas loved the peaks, heights
Called them God in their tongue.
Came Europe with disease, disaster
The worst was use of horse and the swords
Raping was, for them, game
Brutal in killing, bloodshed
They cut heads and butchered
As if was a pumpkin or melon.
And the heights were savers.
A baby cockroach too
Climbed high on kettle
Ran away from heat
But poor thing…
Was not saved…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:14:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem pierced my heart. No more safety in the world. We are 'Going Down the River Road' (Meja Nwagi) daily. Its a pity. Thanks for sharing
Thank you very much for reading and the comment.