June 22, 2006
In The Quiet Land—By Daw Aung San Suu Kyi
Although this is not my poem, I wanted to share this with the few people who actually read this little blog of mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did . . .
In the Quiet Land, no one can tell if there’s
someone who’s listening for secrets they can sell.
The informers are paid in the blood of the land and
no one dares speak what the tyrants won’t stand.
In the quiet land of Burma,
no one laughs and no one thinks out loud.
In the quiet land of Burma,
you can hear it in the silence of the crowd.
In the Quiet Land, no one can say when
the soldiers are coming to carry them away.
The Chinese want a road; the French want the oil;
the Thais take the timber; and SLORC takes the spoils . . .
In the Quiet Land . . . In the Quiet Land, no one can hear
what is silenced by murder and covered up with fear.
But, despite what is forced, freedom’s a sound
that liars can’t fake and no shouting can drown.
Filed by Chris 大斌 at 9:57 am under Adventures In Poetry, General, Reflections
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