A rose of freedom,
Once stood in the fields green,
Now tainted roses stand,
In deserts of sands,
Painted with grief all around,
To smell the scent,
Of a rose is Long history,
As they have withered,
Been Taken hostage,
In a land occuppied,
By enemies of gun,
Which rose may be smelt?
None, As all are in mourning,
With the blood spilled of a nation,
And a rose of freedom,
Lives in the minds of many yet.
We need this smell to cool off our anger. So painful though that we are mourning at this time. Aptly captured. We will surely overcome.
Good write, Alpay.
First Edition Translation of Teselas by Carmen Crespo X111 César Simón Poetry Prixe 2016 Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospíde
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
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Pacific Ink
Good write, Alpay.
Emeka