Soiled Hands Poem by Babatunde Aremu
Soiled Hands
Wash and clean your hands
My lesson teacher taught me
That it brings personal hygiene
I abide by this instruction
But as I traversed the land
As I looked around me
I amazingly see soiled hands.
Elders hands are dirty.
Kings finger tips
Are putrefied with red oil.
Servants hands are dipped
Into the forbidden pots.
Horrid and foul smells
Oozes into the air space
Floods of dirts overflow
Our dear mother land
Our treasures are vanished
Via our soiled hands
So nice write! Soiled hands do dirty business.This is a transferred epithet. A wonderful allegory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/28/2024 12:59:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I abide by this instruction But as I traversed the land As I looked around me I amazingly see soiled hands. Elders hands are dirty. Kings finger tips... It is always shocking to learn that the elders that preach against sinful life are found rotten.