Politiculture
R
Rahman Henry
0
Altın Yaprak
Each and everyday, there goes on vengeance, soundful and silent
Each and everyday, at morning, there are sad news
With how many death you intends to full your bag,
Independence, to be the harvesting season in our paddyfields?
In my sleep too, I can hear: here, on the roads of
homeland and throughout Asia
The painful jumpy booms
Ah, gloomy days!
When would you take us again towards the labour room of dreams?
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş