Against the backdrop of destruction and violence
raging through my motherland, I have a red rose
for you in my hand, her sweet smell fading with time
but their lust for power offering no respite!
Though your prolonged absence has set my skin aflame,
the loud cries of agony from the victims, burned
in the ruthless fire of a civil war, disguised,
drown the bereaved sighs of solitude from my heart!
For more than forty years we have endured that lust
but how long, I wonder, we must in silence live!
When shall we turn around and roar at their bloated face,
“We have had enough of your promises and threats!”
Is there no one who wants to have a spine at last?
Come sharp, for the smell of my rose is fading fast!
* Lovely Conversations 12