Viva Cyprus

First Sunset of 2014 -7 - (by ioanniscleary deviantart.com)

THE BIG WORD 

When the poem utters the big word 
all the weapons will hush at once 
the word that's the voice of 
the spilled blood and the cry of suffering 
the word that's uttered by the chorus of the dead 
and by the exiled crowd of history. 

It will be whispered by the flower 
the weeping cloud in the sky 
the rapturous waves of the sea 
and the childred who do not want 
to join the army. 

That day, a new love will emerge 
from the foams of the sea 
that is distinct in nationality. 

War will die of shame 
as the silence starts taking revenge from history 
and the magic words 
will kiss the wind of love. 

If being disloyal to the half 
will bring me the whole native land 
your nationalism will be a cuckold's egg 
I shall betray you 
even with your bloody armies after me 
I shall make love with all the enemies 
I shall betray you 
on all the continents of this earth. 

When the poem utters the big word 
all the deals and negotiations 
will come to an end with nothing left to say 
all the mediators will be unemployed. 

The history will surrender 
under that big word which carries 
the stars and the rivers 
the endless love making of all times the sounds, the rain, and the seas. 

When the big word 
will be uttered by the poem 
either all the poets will be executed 
or peace will descend on earth. 

~ by Nese Yasin

One Cyprus.

 

The gate (by decklansheur deviantart.com)