The Alchemy of misery
the night befell the dream
the rubber into robbery
which steamed up the machine
a white juice forced with steel
for a Dunlop on a wheel
it seemed a foul necessity
to forge from iron slain
a future well deserved
a river full of pain
draining a country dry
a Congo left to die
so every-time you
see those tire tracks
you should remember why
these are the stripes
from flogged backs
all stained with blood
by a Belgian God
and a wicked vulture's cry.
Madrason 30 aug 2014
against greediness and discrimination and superiority
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem