That's what it said all right -
Surrender or be alienated
with those who are half-naked
They came out of the bush
by the score carrying their guns
on their shoulders with barrels
pointed to the ground
Their hands behind their heads
We told them in no uncertain terms -
Don't be scared you are welcome!
And then we wasted them all!
poor naked wretches
that bide the pelting of the storm
how shall your raggedness
defend you from seasons
such as these?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem