Perhaps we do not want to, but it's time.
We have to put aside our hate and talk
of futures, not the past, and not the crime
we suffered forty years ago, but walk
inside the room with fellow Cypriots
and talk and talk, forgive, respect and love;
refuse to be fanatical zealots
and offer the olive branch like the dove,
that dove which is on Cyprus' coat of arms.
Or is it just a meaningless symbol,
a picture beautifully drawn which charms
but fails to send its peace-loving signal?
Much blood was spilt which we must not forget,
and yet, the challenge for peace must be met.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem