Small group of people came together
On a sultry night as they did for ages
For they did not have gods or symbols
In their temple and around a pillar of fire
They were mothers and there were children
And there were Men who brought them along
For ages god was their fire
Instant outlet for all their desires
It gave them strengths and hope
Among them were both weak and the strong
They prayed for their crops and the bounty
For their kith and their long safety
They had no fears as long they had their fire
which was their temple and outlet for desire
These poor peasants’ only tricks they knew
Was to outlive the nature and all its painful glory
No myths ever they knew or any battles of the past
No lands captured no rivers crossed no flags on mast
But they were dangerous to larger beliefs as they showed
That life could be led without the gods avowed
Fire could not be shaped for a god story has to be rare
Vandals knew that this belief had for them pain and despair
They came in small packs and they came to hunt
To the temple and to the pillar of fire
They created noise, they looted, they raped, the killed
They set fire to mothers and children and to the desire
Shrieks drowned as the vandals laughed in victory
Seeing another symbol another faith bow down to theirs
The peasants burnt for they had no gods or symbols
In their temple and amidst the gods they desired
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem