If I were carpenter
I wish I had a pen
Long-lasting and hidden
I would write and erase
All the rights and the wrongs
"They killed him; are devils"
It is said as truth; not written:
"We killed them first in mass,
The blood in plant became hate."
For this we, must and need
Bring in editors to correct
What we call history
By winner or loser
‘Extremes'
If I were carpenter
With a saw, with plane
‘Like Joseph'
I would take history
Yours and mine
To soften and rewrite
Africa, near where's Libya
Lived clans; lived tribes
Had a way rule and law
Devil of recent years
What we name it Europe
Miswrote and has renamed
‘Barbarian' as ‘savage'
(So was in everywhere)
If I were carpenter, had a saw, had a plane
I would cut then scrape, take away
All those words wrongly used
And rewrite the right ones
"Erase shame! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem