Could I wait to see,
Where people gather to kill,
Not with hands nor weapons,
But with mouths and actions?
Could I wait to hear,
People speaking with all disregard,
Not minding if they could bear,
The reward of the word they shared?
Could I wait to speak,
To defend myself from those,
Who think they are at a close,
To send me away in a minute?
Could I wait to stand,
To walk past among them
On a stable ground,
With my footsteps heard,
Whenever I approach with the sound?
For life is not a matter of birth:
To come; overpower; and rule the rest.
Nor is it a matter of death,
Where it's victims are forever arrested.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful philosophical piece, well articulated and nicely brought forth. Thanks for sharing Joseph.