I saw a jewel many years ago,
Its image I often see in my mind,
A multi-faceted gem which would throw
The light in flashes, sparks of fiery kind.
A cafe-lined harbour with lots of boats,
A range of mountains tinged in violet,
A nightingale singing sorrowful notes
As it could not be kept inviolate.
They came by sea and air and they invaded,
They shrouded gold and blue with bloody red.
The houses, shops, hotels - they were all raided,
The owners who looked after them had fled,
And I, can only try to understand
The pain of refugees, in their own land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem