The Hand Of Man Poem by Matt Mooney
The Hand Of Man
It was the hand of man not the will of God
That sealed their fate in their Haitian isle:
When the awful earth quake came to pass
The houses that were badly built collapsed;
Condemned for their impoverished lives,
Crying of sundered families suffering loss
Reaching many a mile to hardened hearts.
We now can compensate, albeit a little late,
For wilfully in our wealth forgetting Haiti.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 9:53:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
