A keresés eredménye

To Kurdish brother

The mountains are crying, drenched with blood,
Shot down, the stars are falling:
On the patches of valley, are wounded and buried,
Hungry chauvinism rushes in.
Oh, kurd, save your bullets,
But don't spare the life of murderers.
On bastards of tyranny and death
Like bloody whirlwind fall down, like a tempest.
Only let the bullets talk to them:
Not just for your possession did they come,
To take your your name and language they came.
And leave your son to be an orphan.
With the oppressor you can not live in consent
He will 'rule' and you will pull the cart.
They get fat from the blood of people they resent.
Chauvinism is our worst enemy by far.
He betrothed treachery with shame,
He will do anything, so you will submit to him.
Oh, kurd, save your bullets-
Without them you won't save your kin,
Do not put to sleep the power of hate,
Then, as a motto, you will take the kindness,
As soon as will fall into a gaping grave
The last chauvinist on the planet Earth.
 
1963.