Maynard Dixon
The Politics of Fear
We do not know who or what we are
We huddle in fear
There is no warmth from one another
Nothing but cold fear.
Leaders of the world, have you brought us to this?
Fear begins to smell like a rotting animal
A fox shot between the two eyes
Its tongue hanging out limply, scorched by the sun
Polaitíocht na hEagla
Táimid gróigthe le chéile agus eagla orainn
Níl teas ar bith ag teacht óna chéile
Fuareagla amháin.
A cheannairí an domhain, an é seo toradh bhur gcuid oibre?
Tagann boladh ainmhí ón eagla, ainmhí atá ag lobhadh
Sionnach a lámhachadh idir an dá shúil
A theanga ar liobarna, barrdhóite ag an ngrian