M. O. R. U.

Makers of Civilization! ! !
Open the pages of wisdom to the people;
Respecting all mankind,
Under the umbrella of righteous laws.

by Edward Kofi Louis

Comments (4)

They come to you on their ships, and make it their load, then put it on sale in the markets of lust. You smile at me from the deep. @@@ Something strange has transpired through these lines where the equation between you, me, they and their remained a riddle. It indicates the anguish of a disturbed mind. Thanks.
...a poem like a magnet...you can't get away from it...
another translation 'Your Hand' Your Hand full of Hours, you came to me – and I said: ‘Your Hair is not brown.’ So you lifted it, lightly, onto the Balance of Grief, it was Heavier than I… They come to you on Ships, make it their load, then place it  on sale in the Markets of Lust – You smile at me from the Depths, I weep at you from the Scale that’s still light. I weep: Your hair is not brown, they offer Salt-Waves of the Sea, and you give them spume. You whisper: ‘They’re filling the World with me now, and for you I’m still a Hollow-Way in the Heart! You say: ‘Lay the Leaf-Work of Years beside you, it’s Time that you came here and kissed me! The Leaf-Work of Years is brown: your Hair is not brown.
it's wonderful.. don't you think so..?