at first there was peace
trees bear fruits
that turn ripe and children
climb the trees
to gather the apples and
savor what sweetness is there
that nature
has to offer
the land is vast
the sea is immeasurable
the skies infinite
the rivers keep on running
forever
the ocean's depths and
abundance
untiring
people misunderstand what ownership is
stewardship is an alien concept
there is always the want to have
greed is cancerous
a country expands
dictators abound
conquerors become heroes
of their lands
bringing slaves and
the fortune of
others
nature is made to bow down
to caprices
whims are the rules
to destroy is to own
to abuse is to use
wars are made like the way the bombs
are stored
like the way the swords and spears
were once sharpened
to kill
there is always nothing enough
for the imperialist
nothing satisfies the conquerors
disguised as the discoverers of
the new world
and so there will always be war
rebellion will always mushroom everywhere
nothing rests
and it will always be the 'dead who can see
the end of all these wars'
at the end who wins? ah nobody
everyone perishes
and nature shall grow its roots again
to retake its long gone leaves and flowers
its green mountains its pure rivers
its clean and blue oceans
its clouds untainted by the smoke of gunpowder
the mushrooms of that nuclear warfare....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem