And who won?
Comes news and news and news
Of market
Of the jobs
Of the oil go up, down
They are old; old as me; old as world
They are games…
Odyssey and the apes
In France, behind bars
Sits someone, as jackal or the fox
'Venezuelan terrorist' he is called.
Stories has it all
Zorro too is someone
Similar, of same kind
The same are
Robin Hood and Ayyars
In Kabul Saqqa's Son
Oh Carlos
You are there, I see oil
All over, in Chaco, Saudi to Russia
But do we connect these
By a chance
To jobs, life; Alberta
What they feed as news is nothing
But B. S. for blind
To shout and scream; jump up-down
All are old, old as me, old as world
Open eyes, open mind
And reread what I wrote
'I am oil.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem