i won't tell you that things are not okay
in the island
the storm has no intention to leave
and the trees have long been gone
i won't tell you that the children are buried in mud
and the women are wailing looking for their men
i won't tell you about the faces of suffering
the horrible sounds of needing without any sign of help
i won't tell you about all these wrongs
that you keep on saying we have committed ourselves
brother, wherever you live now, we have only one thing to say
good luck, keep your conscience intact,
listen to your own voice, it is all you've got.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem