It has four walls
and two windows,
but it's pretty,
even if it's dark.
It has one table
and two chairs.
It looks full,
even it's empty.
It has no floor,
or pretty plates,
but only dust,
painted with blood.
How many people died
and how many pained?
But they builded a beautiful house,
even if it's forgotten.
Something inside me tells me to stay,
to open the windows,
the sun to see it,
May Day to smell.
Good poem! Greetings from Athens! Welcome to poemhunter.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. I wonder about the blood and the people who died. Was there a war? A home invasion? Burglary gone bad? A poet's note might be a good idea.
The blood symbolizes the 4th of May 1886 Haymarket affair in Chicago, which was the start for the international workers day.