then they will take
our land
what our ancestors planted
have already
borne the desired
fruits which we cannot
harvest anymore
when these are taken away
to be given
to the lazy tribes of
Tapolandia
we comfort ourselves
it is just land anyway
and we are hardworking
and can thrive on
other equally rewarding
endeavors
our ancestors are angry
but they are too
dead.
well we comfort again
our incoming generations
that was just land
with diminishing returns
we are here
on temporary basis
and hence must not feel
the grief
now what is the measure of
our true worth?
you say it is money
the other one says a high
government position
shares of stocks
investments
gratuities and insurance
well, you must know
it is this soul, this independent mind
this God, this indestructible
faith.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem