thesilkroadtoday
HOW MUCH LONGER?
How much longer, O shore,
must you remain a borrowed shore,
while blood remains the harvest
of those who dwell upon you?
How much longer
must the fangs of night tear into me,
and the lonely hours burn me
as I yearn for light?
How much longer
must I hear voices echoing,
urging me to dig—
then vanish beyond the crossing?
How much longer?
How much longer
must I read the headlines of newspapers
striking their dirges of death
upon the fading echoes of my voice?
Condolences pass through my history,
then move on…
while I am cast upon the pavement
of oblivion, behind the silence.
My memory becomes a nightmare,
drifting farther and farther from me,
until even my own people
are distanced from its haunting presence…
O my sea!
Do not wonder at my silence.
I live beyond death,
behind the open window,
behind the words consumed by fire.
Though crucified,
I remain engraved upon the world,
in a forbidden corner
concealed by truth,
unbroken,
intertwined with love.
I shall sail forth from my heart,
despite the trembling walls,
despite the fires crowding the horizon.
My soul shall leap beyond my very being,
pierce the wall of sorrows,
and release the truth of ages—
a truth long kept under watch,
long destined to unfold
upon my ravaged land.
