2015 UNESCO Poem of the day

What have I to say

Thou hope of the rising sun

What have I to show

As I stand before thy boisterous sea.

The sun still covers thy waves

With a peaceful  sleep within its noisy rage;

Oh deserted places of habitation

Enough of the tears trickling down from thy mournful  drums.

I weep for thee because thy hands are tied at thy back;

Indeed by thine very same are they tied

To suffocate at the watch of thy own:

Thy own rude work.

I see thee show thy waist beads to the sky

Men in their youth I see

Without cutlasses in the planting season.

I watched and behold  like an orphan thou arth

When thy parents still liveth.

As the bare earth blows freely thy heirloom´s dust

And suck out thy bequitted nectar,

Thy gathering shall be like clouds without rain

And oh wobbling  feet, into shame

Thy gray hair´s crown will be brought down;

But when thou leapeth  thy best foot forward to embrace  

May it not reap the whirlwind.