There is a country far away, though today
Not so far, but wide as the eye can see,
Though a place you would not like to stay;
A place once valued in time and history,
Where stories were told, the people bold,
Now grown tired, now grown old;
And people ask how this came about,
The future seemed bright without doubt.
Perhaps, they said, it's all down to oil,
And looking up to some oligarchs,
Quick to take out but not put back,
Whilst others have to sweat and toil;
Knowing they could never win,
For if they strayed, the boot is put-in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem