The Burden Poem by Inawo Murphy Ternenge
The Burden
It's a basket full of pain
to wake everyday
knowing the burden
created by the throne
is to be shouldered by us
how many miles do we stil
have to walk.
If only our tired hands
be the eagle's wings
we would fly
high above the iroko
high above the everest
and kilomanjaro
then the wicked hands
of this burden
would not be able
to reach us
as we fly
among the clouds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 6:47:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
