Harmonía resonated in me:
To sleep... perchance to dream
Of that fantasy supreme
Of harmony
Becoming reality
For all eternity
In my wretched country.
If I could die, that you be born again.
But is there any wisdom left in your men?
I've already given up my life
Since you began your throes of strife
But can you even understand
The meaning of my outstretched hand?
Only you can choose to live, my land.
Harmonía a résoné en moi.
Je pense avoir convenablement traduit mon propre poème. Les bilingues en jugeront:
Dormir... rêver peut-être
A cette aspiration de l'Etre,
A l'harmonie
Devenant réalité
Pour l'éternité
Dans mon malheureux pays.
Si ma mort pouvait te rendre vie!
Mais tes hommes ont-ils, tous, perdu l'esprit?
Je l'ai déjà donnée, ma vie,
Aux premiers spasmes de tes conflits
Mais as-tu jamais compris
Ce que ma main tendue signifie?
Toi seul peux choisir de vivre, mon pays.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Harmonia - Response to Kio
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1 comment:
To sleep… perchance to dream
Of that eager little boy
On the edge of his seat
Learning about conflicts in his country
As if, a remote event in its History
To sleep… perchance to dream
Of a philanthropic Nation
Requiring Life from its people
Motivation, creativity & work
Instead of Death and morbid dreams
To Live, to waken, to dream
To forsake the loud mouths
For only the people “can”
And only the people “will”
To sleep… perchance to dream
That the people “might” someday
But the people are somewhat busy these days
Trying to make ends meet.
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