For The People Of Haiti

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
As we all know, the people of Haiti are currently trying to recover from a disaster that has killed hundreds of thousands and affected many millions more. This poem will most likely never be read in Haiti, where the literacy rate is just over 50%, where the average Haitian does not have access to the Internet and where people cannot live like we do, as they must survive in terrible conditions. As for those of you who can read this, please donate to any charity or organisation that is helping Haiti. My French is poor, so the French is Google Translated, so I apologise for any mistakes.

Submitted: March 22, 2010

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Submitted: March 22, 2010



Quand la terre nous a tous bouleversés en pièces

When the land ended it's lazy slumber

When the dust grew higher than the palm tree

When the city fell to it's knees

Beau terrain marqué par la nature

A mother weeps under concrete tent

The final breaths of her dying child fade

She stays alone, waiting for the daylight

L'aide provient des terres riches d'outre-mer

And this warring planet stops and takes note

Of all the suffering, of all the destruction

Somehow Hollywood fades from sight

Une main descend et prend ses propres

And with the dust she is pulled away

Into the sunlight and camera glare

Newspaper flower of grey London

Le nombre de partis se lève chaque jour

The villages that fell like card pyramids

Deserted ghost houses haunt the living

And they know just who they have lost.

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