we were never the
poets in their list
at their dinner party
they shake their heads
they rule and they
lay down the rules
their laws are theirs
and we are the outlawed ones
but who cares?
there's too much war
on words already
there's just too many
who died and who pretended
they died
as we sail on our waters
we continue to sing with
our paddles our boats
arriving somewhere on
a land where we put our
feet again and run and run
around this island now
which we name as our own
here the sun shines for us
and for us, too, all alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem