Reservations Poem by Chan Mongol
Reservations
RESERVATIONS
Poem by Chan Mongol
May 27 of 2022
Where are those trees who knew me?
I lost my village for the stone made city.
By forcing the nature to go away;
State of nature is dying day by day.
Heaven was altered by men as hell;
Noises and dusts made the bad smell!
Reservations were made for American Indians;
Imprisoned nature in Zoological gardens!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:02:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
