The lakes of our country
are turbulent. They swirl
around and around
their basins, wearing down
the confining banks, turning
the landscape into a wide pool.
Trees, shrubs, topsoil, flowers,
all are sacrificed, and water
claims a barren landscape for itself.
The mountains of our country
are little more than hills.
We call the region the High Country
because we are a proud people.
But the winds of the four directions
unleashed their tremendous breathings
against rock and buried gems.
turned hardness into dust,
scattered it into vast deserts.
The birds of our country
are all of one species, vultures
with famished eyes and claws
sharpened against jagged rocks.
Over the centuries the vultures
consumed the songbirds
in a frenzy of appetite.
And silence descended
over the land, broken only
by the vultures' choked cries
as they scrounge for threads of food.
The people of our country
do penance every morning and evening:
they pray in cracked voices for the return
of the Gods, who once imposed order
on nature. WE are ready to surrender.
Return to us, You Gods. WE beg to be mastered.
May be it would be better to call back the reason we lost as humans instead the gods or better the gods of reason.
Your comment, Dimitrios, reflects the wisdom needed for our age. It stands as a clear. concise statement of the truth. My poem is really an exercise in style, a nostalgic look backward at the Age of Myth. There is a vibrant and relevant modern poem waiting to be written that will embody the return to reason you affirm.
Over the centuries the vultures consumed the songbirds in a frenzy of appetite. And silence descended over the land, broken only by the vultures' choked cries - - - - A great metaphorical poem, thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Can we observe how the reaction of Nature is so soft compared with the destruction we humans do each day. We keep destroying our world then pray all gods to save it.. Thank you for share, a mind opener poem!