Voices On The Tall Grasses
nothing comes
closed, like so many words,
voices from the mouths of its peoples,
the words in theirliving breaths, beauty, and origins,
enjoying the parties while it lasts,
discussing the pasts
premise and how the present consists,
The father remembering the fathers,
the present remembering the past,
The whole generations of family structures,
histories and the daily chores,
The days inside the story,
the races within their battalions of disparities,
Made up like billions of skins,
the lemmings on the teeming grass,
terrestrials scattering at both sides of the encounters,
feets on the tall grasses,
and the high mountains,
one could ever forget,
or failedto respect,
responded,
like an invitations to the wild parties,
even invitationslike a call of war,
it's the never ending reasons,
voices from the so many mouth's,
from the air to the lungs,
by the lower jaws
because you were part of the database, debates,
and discussions,
possibly the aggrieved,
part of the war and part of the peace process,
part of the components,
part of the surrenderer and the chaos,
part of agreements,
noises of the wild celebrations,
the part of the deceased,
and their last words before leaving,
the very dialogues of Mother Earth,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. Beautiful to read