The past is dark, and ugly.
For this is how we learn
Not one of us is free of ancestors
Who did another burn
Shall we declare as enemies
all those whose ancestors clashed with ours?
Or shall we now admit
We have no right to sit
In judgment of others ancestors,
When some of ours did things as perverse
Are we our ancestors?
Need we make their wars our own?
When none can atone
For all history's wrongs
Or shall we forgive all ancestors
For crimes carried out?
If we condemn all accused
Lacking both context and doubt
How can we be surprised
When our own trial ends with our demise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem