Our People Poem by Hebert Logerie

Our People

It's a people who sees and who does not see
It is a people who hears and who does not hear
It's a people who speaks and who does not speak
It's a people who feels and who does not feel
It's a people who breathes and who does not breathe
It's a people who sits and who does not sit down
It is a people who suffers, endures, and who bleeds
It is a people who is clean, dirty, and who bathes
It is a people who is always happy, sad and in mourning
It is a people who always wipes and polishes the coffins
It is a rooster of exceptional quality that sings its miseries
It is a porcelain doll that weeps profusely
It is a people who lives and who dies silently
It's a people that we cannot comprehend
It's a people that they've tried a million times to sell
It's a people that they forgot on the counter of the slaughterhouse
It's a people that they strangled in the corners of the boulevards
It's a people that they trampled in the vestibule of the church
It is a people that they degraded on the rose room walls of the palace
It's a people they humiliated on the steps of the auditorium
It is a people that is vilified and insulted on the podium
It's a people that is periodically looted by its corrupt children
Our hungry people walk and run naked like the little boys in the streets
Our people can never die or expire physically or spiritually
Our people are like hibiscus, like the rose that is born yearly.

Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

This is a translation of the poem Notre Peuple by Hebert Logerie
Monday, May 28, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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