Dinos Koubatis, Greece

    0
    326

     

    Dinos Koubatis, Greece
    Vice President

    DOUBTS OF A LITTLE CHILD

    How do you know if the Negros don’t  have a heart,
    if the Yellows don’t  hide a soul?
    How do you know if the Reds don’t  cry,
    how do you know what’ s the each tribe’s pain?

    Why the Whites do we want for “us”
    all the nature’s goods?
    Why doesn’t  our heart feels pain
    for the others  children of our mother’s earth?

     

    REESTABLISH

    I stayed for nights awake. And so?
    And I saw they cut in our the moon.
    And your figure pale cut, four moons also it.
    How I love you the nights bellow the stars!
    How I cut your pale figure and I dissect your soul!
    And after that, how I again find you in my dreams…
    I reestablish you, -I reestablish the moon and from this reform,
    cut becomes, in the starry nights, only my soul!…

    THE PAINTED JESUS CHRIST

    He wondered little Curly, if Jesus Christ was a little Negro.
    And was telling Li-Vou, the yellow boy, that He was like him a Chinese boy.
    Red, told that she saw the Christ child, that little Indian girl.
    But , she thought was right, the other little freckled American girl.

    Indeed, before two thousand  -so, or even so- years,
    in Bethlehem, was born lonely in a cave, in contempt,
    one baby, too little and handsome and was very-very white,
    from a mother Virgin and God as a father, and His name was Little Christ.
    How they say now, Curly and Li-Vou and that Indian girl,
    That  Jesus Christ had one other color , as she, the American girl didn’t know!

    But, none ever could see that the Christ’s  figure changes  color,
    that means,Negro and Chinese and Indian in the same time,
    and even of  every tribe there exist.
    They don’t know that, the Whites, they, want Jesus Christ only for themselves.
    But the children all over the word, have the right to paint by themselves their Christ.

    QUESTION MARK…

    I gave up and came back
    to the eternity…
    What’s up over there?
    Obscurity, emptiness,
    reality of a world  outside me.

    Why have I waste my life
    in unworthy paths
    where promises were running
    there and here
    except my sight?
    Why, then?

    Who is waiting for me
    in the tenebrous fields
    of one other reality,
    where, they say, as a judge
    decides about my future
    as he did for my past?

    Who is he?
    Who “is” me?
    Who “is” both
    of us?

    DEATH

    O Humans, take care!
    A land is in danger,
    -the hole people in peril!
    Children are dying
    in the streets.
    What are we doing?
    Arms, soldiers, criminals …
    What are they doing?
    Our era, era of death!

    LEAVE A REPLY

    Please enter your comment!
    Please enter your name here