here lies
a fallen, wilted
flower
this is not
a flower from the garden
of full blooms
but from the bloody fields of destruction
the iron birds that fly
in the sky have sucked
all pleasure out
now they perch on the blooming petals like thunder
it is still moist
but the story of its life has ended
in the cemetery
no longer can sweet songs
from red parted lips can heard
all the cradle
only the wails of sadness
all treaties
signed
are meaningless now
round-table talks
are tropies of victory
neatly arranged
for all to see
for show
the right hand is extended
to say goodbye
the left hand clutches
impressive weapons
the blooming sounds
of violence blast
the eardrums
in the garden of peace
a parade of breezes
carries the stench
of caked blood
to the nose
people who have not
one dram of mercy
End it!
"do we want to honour
the medal of victory
with the dying
of flowers that
have fallen without blossoming?"
N.Patchaibalan
(Translated into Malay by Dr.Gana)
(Translated into English by Tanja Jonid)
Voices of Malaysian Poets - An Anthology of Malaysian Poetry
Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, Kuala Lumpur, 2009
