The Cry of the Dead
Minuto a Minuto





11 de abril de 2017


The lords of war are riding:

Riding on their cruelty,

Riding on their senseless

Ruthless aim of death.

Today, they no more come

On horses:

They press a botton,

They pull a lever

And from the skies

The cloud of anhiliation


Behold! Behold!

Babies, children, old people,

Are being pulled into

The whirlwind

Of the horrors of famine,

Mutilation and death.


Because they're blind

And deaf, dormant

To the rights of life.

War mongers, 

Killers, assassins!

Inhuman beasts,

Merchants of iniquity;

Traders of flesh!

Supposedly killing terror;

Creating it themselves.


The Earth is left pervaded

Of a glassy silence,

The stony silence of death!

As of this day,

The massacre is ended

A shout, a cry!

They all are left there,

Lying dead . . .


Este poema fue escrito en respuesta a las atrocidades que se están cometiendo en muchos de los países árabes. ¡Es una vergüenza!

This poem was written as an answer to all the atrocities that are being made in all the arabian countries. ¡Is a shame!

 Lilia Rivera.



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