Hmong Unable To Pay Tax To The Day Of Death... Poem by Kong Vang
Hmong Unable To Pay Tax To The Day Of Death...
Gallant Hmong people weeps on the nomad road...
Leading a road of blood where ever they go...
Tax fill their sack...
To the day they die...
Unable to pay tax...
They dig up the graves of ancestor...
Digging up roots to eat...
Digging up spirit money to pay tax...
They want to climb heaven's stair...
But there are no stair...
They want to hide in a huge hole...
But there are no huge holes...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 11:13:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
