Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Burma's Non-Political Flood
Water, water, all around me
But I am so..so… thirsty.
Here, there, human bodies' everywhere
But none alive accompany me and share.
And I look at myself
Broken hopes and empty handed.
And I look further around
Just like a post heavy-battled ground.
Wild cyclone has wiped all things down.
Where are those kids from innocent playground?
Where are students in the green and white uniform?
Where is my town always singing along country rock songs?
Where are my mates who search for freedom and independent?
Where are those local chicks with new-leaf-color lips?
Where are those parents with a too busy habit?
All my questions disappear,
All my answers whisper…and whisperer.
Collaborated disaster of the nature and the dictator!
And I constantly hear voices from my empty stomach
Asking me food, forcing me speak out and stand up.
I silently speak with my loudest, to the entire world
Then mankind's sympathies come and knock my door.
Let me now open my door
'Cause those sympathies will help to fix my wounded floor.
Let me invite them with an open heart
'Cause those sympathies will help my life reconstruct.
Hello Mr. militarists,
Your guns are currently useless,
My demands are urgently needed,
Here, I'm alive, not a corpse yet,
Neither much time left.
Together, let's work out as a nice diplomat!
(Dedicated To My Mother And People Of Burma Who Lost Lives And
Who Are Hardly Survived Under Both Natural And Political Weathers!)
-- by
Thu I Sann
But I am so..so… thirsty.
Here, there, human bodies' everywhere
But none alive accompany me and share.
And I look at myself
Broken hopes and empty handed.
And I look further around
Just like a post heavy-battled ground.
Wild cyclone has wiped all things down.
Where are those kids from innocent playground?
Where are students in the green and white uniform?
Where is my town always singing along country rock songs?
Where are my mates who search for freedom and independent?
Where are those local chicks with new-leaf-color lips?
Where are those parents with a too busy habit?
All my questions disappear,
All my answers whisper…and whisperer.
Collaborated disaster of the nature and the dictator!
And I constantly hear voices from my empty stomach
Asking me food, forcing me speak out and stand up.
I silently speak with my loudest, to the entire world
Then mankind's sympathies come and knock my door.
Let me now open my door
'Cause those sympathies will help to fix my wounded floor.
Let me invite them with an open heart
'Cause those sympathies will help my life reconstruct.
Hello Mr. militarists,
Your guns are currently useless,
My demands are urgently needed,
Here, I'm alive, not a corpse yet,
Neither much time left.
Together, let's work out as a nice diplomat!
(Dedicated To My Mother And People Of Burma Who Lost Lives And
Who Are Hardly Survived Under Both Natural And Political Weathers!)
-- by
Thu I Sann
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Poor Burmese, Cyclone Victims are dying every minute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"My children were crying all night. There is not enough food. There will be no food this evening," said Daw Thay, who took refuge in a monastery with her three children and her 99-year-old mother in a town 60 miles south of Yangon, the country's biggest city.
Daw Thay, 42, said monks were going without food so others could eat.
"We share what we have but there isn't enough. So they (the monks) give the food to the children and the old people first," she said. more...
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
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