Let them strip us bare
and mock our imperfections,
for they are ignorant of the laws they breach.
Let them raise fist and truncheon without reason
for with each blow will their own hearts
further bruise and blacken.
Allow them their reprisals
and petty victories,
for theirs is a bitter life of spiritual defeat.
Then when they've closed off all the music
and shut away the Sun
and a silent darkness bathes our hurt,
we know we may crush the brute in an instant
with just a smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem