Clad in white, He approached with mike in hands,
with confidence of charming a bunch of toothless snakes,
His chest heaved as his tongue lashed at the crowds,
We swayed like blades of grass on prairie fields,
Emotions swelled to tunes of his Utopian dreams,
Like a malignant tumor it spread through our heads,
Promises of destiny clouded our eyes,
Poison in his ideas paralyzed our minds,
Fire from his eyes tempered ours made of glass,
With a sway of his hands,
He broke our trance with timing learnt from masters,
At the end it seems,
As though it was a match of two players,
His impotent patriotism versus,
Our own congenital blindness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
they think we are all dumbs... in brasil they are like a plague...