The doors of the churches and the schools are closed.
No decent people are on the streets,
Where we see sad crimes and horrible abuses.
Many windshields are broken by badly thrown stones.
Violence rains in the streets and in the corridors;
No dogs or cats dared to vent outside.
A few meager birds, on the branches, stare with disdain
And amazement several thugs and charlatans with masked faces.
It is sad to see these heinous crimes. How awful!
There is a hostile war? One wonders which party will win?
We can hear the voice of an old man coming somewhere
Who shouts faintly, "We are all poor victims, sad tramps,
Who are committing suicide for bad politicians, for misers. "
Not too far, we can see a crazy woman with a close friend,
Both in rags. It's a nightmarish image that proves
That the country has become a hell on earth. On the radio, they say
That some ships of the United States Navy are in the harbor.
What are they doing on our territory? We flee,
Or we do not flee? We cannot. Everyone is in prison.
Violence snows blood on the streets of a tropical country, where fear
Reigns. Children do not dare to play in the streets, where terror
Hisses like snakes, like machine guns of the enraged demons.
No war is civil or civilized; war among the same people is also violent
And nefarious. My God, things are very bad in the streets nearby.
Violence is raining and everyone is crying. Victims are everywhere at bay,
Waiting for the arrival of the good angels, who shall come perhaps in a few months.

Copyright © June 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

This is a translation of the poem La Violence Pleut Dans Les Rues by Hebert Logerie