Che to Shabaab
In bed and on my back
Too early; eyes closed
In ear marches world
Radio, radio, radio
CBC, the German, Africa
Too early in morning
Around four; Moroccan speaking
In French, English, has meaning: 'I am of…'
The talk of Al Shabaab and terror
And rebels everywhere…
'Comes from oppression, not feeling equal.'
Eyes closed I can read far better
I use my telescopes, my ears
And I am wide awake.
Around dawn, new day
Still dark, no fear
'Got older…' I hear
It is death at my door.
A warning: 'Did the right? '
'Be or leave? ' of UK
In EU; Shakespeare's
'Be…not be…'
Raises dust of the pat
Britain, no sunset
And I roll to my side
And I laugh: 'Must get up!
'Lot is there to be done! '
BEHANDING…
I see hands, hands of Che
They are toys, CIA's, with message:
'KGB be aware, these hands knocked at our door,
No one must get close; we are the USA! '
And I am wide awake, yes, I am wide awake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem