Are we to be refugees
enduring the struggle, and fight
then the headlong flight.
We leave our meagre belongings
strewn throughtout this violent land.
No homes or, warm hearth welcomes us.
songs do not honour us.
We are the victims.. In our land
of sorrows only the warriors
have their songs.
Ah, but to think, when they are gone
we, the refugees remain.
always doing battle with our enemy
HUNGER...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hi johnoe you have indeed penned a great poem...its exceptional...and you can be proud of it there is no deliverance and no escaping... my friend congratulations and thanx ireally liked it and did it twice...could have been better rhymed though...purely a personal opinion cheers