There is a question everyone is asking
How much time do we have?
To reach out and make things right?
Children are born and children die
The level of instability so high
The fathers are dead
The mothers are hopeless
Still into this desolate land, they must go
To find a beautiful land beyond.
The past hunts again
Seeking whom to devour
The present runs for cover
The prisoners are let loose
So much for so little
The child born yesterday
All grown and fine
And right before his very eyes
He sees his mother dry and wonders
What is worth it in life?
What’s the point?
How long do we have to stay and suffer?
How much do we have to endure?
How far is the road?
Where do we go?
How far do we have to go?
I really don’t know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tough questions, Namie... but an excellent write! Brian