you would harness the mules,
and put blinders on them....
you would muzzle the dog,
clip the wings of the hawk.
you would cut the ancient oak,
without thought or remorse.
you would dam the river,
and the consequences be damned.
you would harness the sun,
and enslave the wind....
in the name of your god,
to the beat of the drums.
let the bones be your footprints,
of the flesh make your boots.
pluck the eyes from the truth,
rip out the tongue of courage.
yet in the dark of night,
in your neon lit rooms.
the ghosts of your children's children,
shake the panes and tear at the curtains.
and the hearts of the many,
mournfully howl and stomp...
at the door to your consciences,
neath the lamp of your souls!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem