Oh! Mother, what happened to your enlightenment?
Where are your sages and the Buddha?
Your myths are our embarrassments
Mother, what shall we do with the memories of heroism?
When we are caged within the references of others,
Why have we allowed them to guide our feeble intelligence?
Those who put in questions also have answers.
Mother, we have become savvy critics.
With everything for us to criticize
We have learned so much without knowledge.
Mother: What is our identity?
Language, religion, geography, or ethnicity
long-lost tales of bravery
We are singularly divided into many.
Mother: Are we migrant workers?
Disposed of and dispatched in body bags
Sheep and donkeys for other nations
What is the worth of our sweat and blood?
in the desert heat
Your children are universal fighters
They prefer dying elsewhere
Mother can feel our sense of accomplishment
When publishing condolences for sons and daughters,
Killed in accidents in New York or Sydney
As for those deaths in Kuala Lumpur, Dubai and Qatar
They are forgotten as an unnecessary burden.
Oh! Whatever you have, Mother, is always for the other
Your brain drains have decided to think of you
From the comfort of foreign shores
Picking on imperfections, they have run away from
For, those of us left, we are busy scratching
What has never been here and never shall be
We have been told that a relentless conqueror has united you
However, revolutionaries have cracked you up
What a shame for all the martyrs who died for us
Ashamed! We are not worthy of your sacrifice
See, martyrs, your glory has become our decay
Always lost in the chaos of transition.
Oh! Mother: What shall we do now?
When we have nothing to exact revenge upon
Have we turned into a virus that kills its host?
Where have all the oppressors gone?
They cover themselves in various reds
And, for our political saviors, they are friends
There are numerous little kings with their small armies
Mother, your statues have been wrecked
And we have been orphaned by history
From where shall we get another narrative?
Find a script to search for the brave new world
Oh! We’re just guinea pigs here, Mother.
Waiting for yet another monstrous experiment.
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