The Solemn Oath Poem by Agatha Eliza

The Solemn Oath



Betray me not, comrade of mine
with whom I shared my bread and wine
the creeds, and the blood spilled
in the sacredness of an solemn oath.

We formed the lines, and rather
fought a war of will and ideologies,
necessity for others to have
this precious land to call a 'home'.

What will they write of us in
the history books? I wonder..Where
is the fire we grew inside us,
the torch that was meant to keep our
legacy alive? You were born
with clean hands, as ours were drenched
in the blood of the kings. For yours
to be the freedom. The holes in the flag
the holes in our ragged clothes, the
walls with fingerprints and bars
scratched deeply to mark the days and
nights, the long way to the light.
Long lost are the days when the chants
and bullets resounded in the streets
and their echo set the children's hearts
aflame..
Long lost are the days when the bards
wrote poems, depicting our feats
and ultimate sacrifice..
Long lost are the days when women
sent their tears in yellowish envelopes
but we died before even saying 'goodbye'.

We're nothing but sad ghosts standing
behind the graves, reminding you the price
one generation pays in order for
the new ones to be free. N'oubliez jamais
que nous avons fait ça pour vous!


Dans les âmes colonisées également
par peur et par l'espoir,
on fait des efforts pour retrouver le courage
par des chansons on écoute, ces hymnes élevés
en l'honneur des nos héros et martyrs..
les personnes qui ont forgé un pays et une nation,
promettant que nous ferons la même chose.


Mon cher camarade, tu t'es souviens
les réunions autour du feu,
dans des endroits cachés et secrets pendant une
telle soirée? Nous étions si jeunes et rêvions
d'une Révolution glorieuse qui nous donnera
la liberté. Combien vaut une idée?
Maintenant, nos yeux sont vides, et l'esprit
est déjà mort;
alors, on est totalement déprogrammés,
déconnectes du'un passé comme les étoiles
d'un ciel blessé, terne et pâle
quand le soleil se lève.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: identity,nation,patriotism,revolution ,soldier
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The translation of the verses I wrote in French.


Within the hearts equally colonised by
fear and hope,
we made efforts to retrace the courage
through the chants we listen to, those hymns raised
in the honour of our heroes and martyrs..
those persons who forged a country and a nation,
promissing that we would do the same.

My dear comrade, do you remember
the gatherings around the fire,
in the hidden and secret places during a
certain evening? We were so young and dreamt
of a glorious Revolution which would rend us
all free. What is the price of such an idea?
Right now, our eyes are empty, and the spirit
already dead;
now, we are totally deprogrammed,
disconnected from a past as the stars
of a wounded sky, tarnished and pale
before the sun comes up.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 07 July 2016

Long lost are the days when bards wrote poems! Nice piece of work.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success