That fateful day in
September, fear surfaced
For a nation, once again.
I woke to the telephone,
“Turn on the TV”,
A voice said to me.
Passenger planes flew into
Buildings, those images
Played over and over.
Another plane, hit
Another building, crashing,
Emitting fire everywhere.
Fire burning, smoke billowing,
People running, jumping, suddenly,
Crashing down, came the building.
Suddenly, it was apparent,
The second building was
Going to come down, also.
For an instant,
Everyone felt the sorrow,
For the brave, for the unfortunate.
That September day, calm was
No more, all planes had stopped
Flying, diverted elsewhere.
Walking outside, so clear, so
Quiet, too still, fear
Was settling in.
A nation, shocked
By the tragedy, slowly
They would recover.
Mourning collectively,
A nation brought together,
For a short time.
Today, still recovering
From that day in September, when
Everything stopped, for a brief moment.
A nation was unprepared,
And still no one knows,
“How did this happen”?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem