Soon, the bird of mercy will perch on our tamed souls
Soon, faces whitened by peace-fragrance powder will overshadow us
Soon, desperate hands greased by the oil-pinch will massage our creased backs
Soon, their mazes will become one with our maize
Soon, our pleading hands will celebrate their incarceration
Soon, soon, soon, and soon:
Nothing will be worth nothing in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Nice imagination, Sodiq. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks