– 0 –
The translated Telugu version: ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ..
This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE.
–
It’s not too unthinkable,
sipping licorice tea in my cardigan,
And day dreaming of a life of civil liberties.
Out of the window,
I see stars coming out from under your sky,
But on ground, I don’t see the tears on your muddy faces.
I’ve only seen your life
through images in those makeshift towns,
Tell me, why is that the rain makes you cry harder?
With an inexhaustible supply of water,
I wash my roses in the sink watching for thorns,
While you will hedge those fences that’ll rip into your flesh.
My kids have all grown,
abandoning these slides in the backyard,
But do you see dusty carcasses of merry-go-rounds left behind midplay?
Politics aside,
I’m grateful I’m here,
Yet terribly guilty that you are still there.
Where you must be hunting
for bread for your family while fleeing homes for tents,
I am frivolous enough to dip the artisan chip into a bowl of guacamole.
Tonight, I’ll take pills to catch a wink,
while you find yourself undead,
After a night of rockets marching on your ear drums.
–
@renaeffendiphoto: Refugees huddled in the fields of Idomeni a small Greek town
–
Tomorrow,
I might go fishing in the waters
That will swallow you in the midnight storm as you cross the seas.
While you’ve been busy
walking to the end of the earth for a roof,
My time has been excessively occupied too.
“Where you headed?”
you might ask,
But until I fall off this life’s treadmill, I can’t stop to answer.
Sometimes, when I’ve felt desolately lonely,
I’ve paused to look for God,
to see if I can be loud enough across oceans for you to hear my love.
Just like you,
I worry about the plight of my children,
However, mostly behind their roaring new wheels.
When society tries to inspire me
to fight for your rights,
I silence its voice by claiming, “Charity begins at home”.
You might be dying to live in peace,
but I can offer my love,
Only just as much as I have for the stranger on the street.
So, let me dampen your spirit
that we will be friends,
When you call on me, I might act like I’ve never fought for your cause.
Because,
I am one and all thousands of you,
Are no one to me.
Because,
I am one and all thousands of you,
Are no one to me.
– 0 –
About The Article Author:
Hi, I’m Rachana. Its been my dream for years to do something to consciously create a better future where every one of us is excited about our own potential. My challenge to everyone is that they aspire for their personal best and leave a legacy of their work through their contributions to mankind.
One more thing. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel.
Will you join me on this journey of growth and transformation?
Namasté.
Poetry
The Mother Of All Emotions – A Poem by Rachana
- Before you think you can put a finger on love,remember the size of the butter stickin your mother’s pie. Think of how all your lifeyou’ve worked to make her proud,yet glanced up to see if the world noticed. Remember your teenage self,distancing from her...
Still Standing, Still Standing.. – A Poem by Rachana
- The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city.. - At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears..I ponder while I drink the primary...
The Emigrants Anthem: A Journey of Struggle, Hope, and Triumph
I Pursuing dreams,First steps Beckoning opportunities,Across oceans Proud sacrifices,Glistening eyes II Anxious freedom,Fertile memories Loyal sentiments,Burning dedication Liberating happiness,Humbled notions III Defending...
If You’re Feeling Like Ending Your Life, Please Read This First
- First, Breathe. And read this small note on real life. Believe it or not, everyone else, just like you are living real lives that are tough, monotonous and boring AF. The duality of terror and love lends life its gravity. Ask yourself your single most pain...
You Know You’re a Mom When.. – A Poem by Rachana
- You've wondered about your fear of death, when the only thing you have always been petrified about is your child digging into that forbidden closet or the bathroom cupboard to find out the secret stash of “things”? You've looked down on the bathroom floor to...
The Many Predicaments of a Single Woman – A Poem by Rachana
She walks as a liberal icon among peoplewho don’t realize their thoughtsare their barbed wires. She’ll march the streets for the disenfranchised,and maybe for those born with ugly faces,but not for them who have the talent for picking the wrong men. What about her?She...
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
* It’s not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It’s something you have or don’t more than I do, because there’s no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
When Home Is Still Here And We Aren’t – A Poem by Rachana
- Want To Listen To The Article Instead? - Unlike refugees, who don't have a home behind or infront of them, we have a home. But, Will it remember all those mornings that the woodpecker made mating calls from its roof?How on sleepless nights,...
ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. (Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..)
- The original English version: Dear Refugee, my life must go on.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. - నన్నల్లుకున్న వెచ్చని కార్డిగన్, మెత్తని నా అరచేతుల మధ్య పొగలు కక్కే ‘లికరస్’ టీ........... పౌర హక్కుల్ని...
Why Darkness Can Be a Gift – A Poem By Rachana
As humans, we are wired to create and not consume. And that's why when we create a piece of art, we feel alive. This poem is a tribute to the struggle of creating something out of nothing. - Want To Listen To The Article Instead? - Years ago, you...
Heartbreaking Plea: A Mother’s Open Letter to Assad Exposing the Horrors of Genocide
The Letter Assad, It is tough for me to think of you as a product of a biochemical blissful event, a distinct moment in time.Should I have sniffed the life out of you the moment I held you in my arms? The pain, the struggle that I went through to bring you...
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
- It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
Questions, just ask!
Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Contact: Fill Form
Bringing a Group? Email us for a special price!
Rachu I love to hear from you the depth of the poem!!
Thank you Seshaunty, by juxtaposing my life and the lives of many refugees who don’t have homes, I wanted to express the helplessness I feel for them and the complacency I feel about my own life.