Red crops
Before I was born in the vast material ... ..
isolated
without touch
In the dark
grew up
the crowd, listing in
sacrifice the roar
Travelled emaciated
from hunger and
torture
solid walls
to marble my wings
shivers in horror
Silently bodies around me
drift, slide
inappropriately to unequal
balances in limbo
denatured
Red crops of the Sun
which watered with
excess blood friends
and buried roots ....
cries muffled
heard every night
pierce the veins, air
metamorphose
Fire water
They do not die
Κόκκινα σπαρτά
Πριν γεννηθώ
στην απέραντη ύλη…..
απογυμνώθηκα
χωρίς αφή
Στο σκοτάδι
μεγάλωσα μέσα
στο πλήθος, στης
θυσίας την βοή
Ταξίδεψα αποσκελετωμένη
από την πείνα και τα
βασανιστήρια
συμπαγείς τοίχοι
μαρμάρωσαν τα φτερά μου
σε θρύψαλα φρίκης
Σιωπηλά σώματα, γύρω μου
παρασύρονται, γλιστρούν
αδόκιμα σε άνισες
ισορροπίες, στο κενό
μετουσιώνονται
Κόκκινα σπαρτά του Ήλιου
που ποτίστηκαν με
περίσσιο αίμα οι φίλοι
και οι θαμμένες ρίζες….
κραυγές πνιχτές
που ακούγονται κάθε νύχτα
τρυπούν τις φλέβες, τον αέρα
μεταμορφώνονται
σε νερό σε φωτιά
δεν πεθαίνουν
Comments
Here in America...
only once have I ever felt the turmoil of unrest very keenly. It was back in the late sixties, when I was stranded and had to walk through a suburb of Birmingham, Alabama, right after they took away the barricades from the streets. I was set upon by a gang of black youths and beaten pretty badly. Other than that, I haven't been affected directly. I cannot imagine what it must be like to live in a war zone or a highly charged area. You put a tale of emotional upset on a plate and set it out for us to see. ~ Geezer.
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Geezer my dearest Basically
Geezer my dearest Basically my poem is influenced by Nazi crimes related to Auschwitz I think such crimes should not be condoned Thank you so much for revealing your feelings with a really bad experience Thank you for your comment
I'm honored