You make us feel dead,
Then command us to sing the anthem—
Ha! Ha! Ha!
But the hearts of the pale-faced burn with rage;
It doesn't work like that.
We are awake, watching,
The tides you send to sweep us away—
But we will not drown in the depths
Of your eternal oblivion.
We are sleeping lions,
Mesmerized by Pharaoh's magicians,
Yet within us stirs a Moses
With his staff of miracles.
That is our power:
Faith in the strength of the Divine.
Unyielding resistance,
The strength of resilience—
These are our tools
To shatter your iron shackles.
— MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem