Starved babies pave the street, lying lifeless and limp,
Tired, looking for lost lullabys.
Vomit and excrement form cool pools around their temples,
Dried blood and tears stick to their skin peircing into each dimple.
Shall we begin, gentle madness?
Hide, burn and bury your dead,
Let the thoughts of far off worlds soothe and serenade your head.
Lord, where is this bread of life?
Please send me fish to feed the hungry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem