Some are lowered in glasses made of wood
Arrayed in white and gold
As if they could take along those with them
Others in boxes of wood
As though privacy mattered any more
Glasses, wood and gold
Laid to rest with the dead and gone
Oh! I did forget the stones-
Stones of walls fallen
And ceilings caved in
Shutting up admidst the crash
Anguished screams and cries and flesh
...And blood
Shutting up in utter silence
Buckets, mattresses, utensils, ...and stones
All and more in a great heap of a grave
Head stones of course, humph!
Headstones of course
Of doorposts and bars
Some staggering, seeking the rest of the dead
Stark bespeakers of the tragedy
Silence reigned, silence reigns
If only in the land of the unliving
For such loud voices cry on
Each day joined by a host of others
Crying, not for pain
But for justice, for vengeance
Yet, the offenders still haven't learnt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Insightful piece of poetry well brought forth in good diction with conviction. Thanks for sharing Ehi.