(Poem)
the vapor-laden clouds
glide in the horizon of discontent
as billion of stars wink
at the pale, waning moon
the somber night gnaws
my tormented soul
as my mind swims
in the labyrinths of hope
forevermore i will sip
the sparkling dewdrops
in every blade of swaying grass
as the whispering morning wind
licks my heaving, revolting breast.
yes, strength of spirit i need
in my loins i must rekindle
the fire of undying faith
the flames must be blazing
in every day and night
to be a troubadour of hope
to weave lyrics of joy
to hum with the whirling wind
melodies of awakening songs
for the oppressed-downtrodden
faceless-nameless class
in my exploited, barren land
yes, resolute i must be
to continue weaving
fiery, liberating lines.
my mind now sways back and forth
in the rugged terrain of ideologues
but crystal-clear purpose
shall keep me going
swimming, struggling
against the rampaging river
of injustices and despair
and my untrammeled, selfish ego
will i drench and cleanse
in the torrents of blood
of the devoured victims
of the ruling class
yes, let’s all be troubadours of hope
in this forsaken, wretched land!
yes!