I remember you from long ago
and like a game of chess we played.
You took me for a witch
and hauled me over coal,
you dunked my head
and would not let me go.
Yes, I remember you,
cracked minds and evil smiles.
The smell of my burnt flesh,
spilling into the night.
The unforgiving words,
that set fire to my grave.
All the knowing nods
and fearful, angry gaze.
I do remember you, as I was flogged
and stretched out upon your cross.
I remember the way you sang,
that fire would cleanse my soul.
And how the village came
and crowded round,
to see the witches soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The painful memories of the past always live on, filtred through someone's imagination and sensitivity. They will never be forgotten. I enjoyed reading it a great deal. Thank you so much for posting this one.10 +++