All our best leaders, thinkers, and poets,
You have branded them anti nationals,
When the people were following them,
For getting freedom from terror and horror,
When ‘twas Life they demanded,
You offered them Bitter Death,
You laughed! When you were killing the children,
But the blood that you proudly spilt,
In the Open and behind the public view,
In the walled garrisons, interrogation centres, ...
...and in the deep forests,
Crieth loudly to God,
And their cries hath the strength and the might,
Of a rebellion, resistance, and revolution,
To end the days of doom and dread,
You are very cruel and callous to our suffering,
Grim Death our fighters you feed,
Through the jaws of the gallows;
Through lynching, bulleting, maming and blinding,
But alienation and intense rage got written on their faces,
With their blood when you martyred them!
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem