Greece In African Andes Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Greece in African Andes

I recall how walls were adobe bricks, on top mud
Inside most were silos for the wheat, stored crops.

I recall, we, as kids stood there loved to see who is tall
Scrolls, sergeant’s ranks, Charcoal lines, of our heights.



Days went by, so did weeks, months and years; Mother Earth
or the Land, has seen it centuries, in thousands; has witnessed.

She observed the child come, a child go, a wall fall, destroyed
Homes be made, and borders, countries, and leaders to nations.


Let us say: “Experience”.


Now Greece…have we learned? Do we learn?
Is it not a redone, a repeat? Oh yes, yes, sure it is.

Look at the Africa, Asia and Andes with lootings, later loans,
With demands and imposed interest with a rule: “Do like this.”



The Greek’s bankruptcy by no means in new; heard they are.
When pride and the life went at edge, they exposed the truth:
“You want me as a mule? ”

Reactions are replies to actions, opposite directions:
“I will not take orders, not, no more, do as wish.”


Will lenders whose wealth is our blood, ever learn?
I suspect soberness. Our blood in goblet they are drunk.
It is normal not to care for the laws, if life is at the edge.