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Comments about Gervase Garu
The Song Of Leader’s Death
On the minacious slopes of Lebanon proudly outspread
The leader stands amidst winds lashing his ripped cap ahead
The wind is humming hymn and bending trees down with pressure
What I hated is now gone; there is nothing to treasure
Joyous burden, bitter travail of my life and sojourn
Greyhounds are flowing from the sky; they’ll remove the concern
What thou love so much, dear august man of admiration,
Take it and don’t be back from thy fiendish conflagration
Proud, with a single teardrop gleaming in the eye offhand
The leader is orphaning our precious Banan ...