Colonialism Poem by Rami gibreel
Colonialism
The bright orange sun
reflects wrinkles of sea and land.
Bruises of darkness spot the sphere
where light is lacking.
Who inflicted these injuries upon the virgin land?
Was it age or abuse?
While the southern tip remains untouched and beautiful,
the rest was violently conquered.
Once the globe was round,
but the touch of man has deformed the shape of nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/3/2025 2:32:30 PM # 1.0.0
