To be truly free, is to be of dynamite
Flying into the sun, without fear of light
Nor its heat that burns, through empty space,
Where comets flow, as cosmic lace.
You shall know of it, when fear erupts
And when in gall, of life corrupts,
Where sparse is judgement, a barren king,
And drunken angels, in choirs sing.
It is too heavy, it cleaves me so
It takes so much, and pays in woe
Though it makes life noble, strange and bold,
Oh to smash the template, to ruin the mould!
Remember this, no one forever shall be free,
And liberty lasts not, for eternity,
So raise its banner, and wave it proud,
Fly it high, above the slavish crowd.
That crowd that speaks with silver words,
That flutter aimlessly, like flightless birds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Freedom Makes us who we are. More please