Ode To Victor Hugo (49) 'the Miserable' conscience Is The Highest Justice Poem by Freeyad Ibrahim

A prostitute had assaulted a citizen, Javert issued sentence
He added yet one other weighty unpretty sentence
Take her to prison under guard, ordering the gaoler
Fantine uttered then a cry of despair
What about Cossette, my daughter
What would become of the poor mite?
She will be starving weeping day and night
It was not my fault have mercy,
Six months with none, no mother bears
She said her both cheeks wet with tears
Words pouring out in a low heartrending flow
'This is not mine it is the justice sentence
The Eternal Father can't alter the sentence.'
This was Javert's cruel answer.
Just then, the mayor, ex-convict in disguise,
entered the police post.
Rising instantly from the floor like a ghost,
Fantine thrust aside the two men, in rage
planted herself in front of the mayor,
spat in his face, regardless the age,
Furious like a wild bird in a cage.
Wiping his cheek calmly, said he
Inspector, this woman is to go Free,
Stupefaction overwelmed him
Thought and word both failed him
But he said suddenly:
The insult was not to yourself but to justice
The kind mayor replied rappidly:
'Conscience is the highest justice.'

&

Freyad Hugo
(Dutch writer, author, translator, columnist, political analyst, poet)
Heerenveen
October,2021