Good morning
Any good in morning
That is filled with uncertainty
Less hope for noon?
Hunger and starvation?
Raising sun
Holding tears and blood
Yet, good morning
Where is good in any morning?
Lies everywhere.
Good afternoon
Morning damage
A blinking noon
Ravaged with suffering and pains
No comfort, no encouragement
Yet, good afternoon
In a bad noon,
What a lie?
Good evening
A hopeless evening
With no achievement
Casted and dead
Or good night?
Of a wrong and rough day
No hope for tomorrow
Everything is wrong
Why then is the good night?
-Okoemu Okoemu Okoemu, the man who is not happy to be alive
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem