Kurdish song
With the day dead and gone
Under roof with no wind
In the warmth
No breeze
Hands and legs back, normal
Feeling sense back in joints
And right hand swollen
Fingertips confused
Feel something of the road
Gravel!
Blood moves with roughness
Sort of hurts and tickles!
Reads or sends messages:
"Kill the child…
"Catch, shackle
"Row the ships of slaves
"Separate child-parent
"If apart sell better
"Distance them from the…
Hot and warm Africa
Ended them to the
Farms of Cotton and sugar
Europe to Caribbean and Andes
And I feel
And I feel
And I feel
Frozen escapee
That sings of Gord Downie
And few Africans of La Paz
Bolivians, in Andes…
Many of the new immigrants
Unlike the Eskimos, their clans
End in same…face the hell
Some survive or remain!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem