in the mountains of
Tabon
the folks are into
a revolution
they cry, 'we want to
take our land back!
this is ours! '
i remember once as a child
when father took me here
riding on a horse for three days
before reaching the old
shack i have only seen the monkeys
mocking at our presence
grandfather hired the natives
who only love bananas to plant
the coconut trees as they make
love with their many wives
morning till night time wanting
to seed the earth who had more
to give for their generation
now they are crying, ' we want
this land back! this is ours! '
it is too late, the land is bald.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem