My people died of starvation and I came here alive, lamenting them in my loneliness...
I am told, "The tragedy of your country is only a part of the tragedy of the world; the Tears and the Blood shed in your country are only Drops in the River of Blood and Tears pouring night and day in the valleys and the plains of the world."
This may be true, but the tragedy of my people is a Silent one conceived in the heads of men, whom we should call snakes and serpents. The tragedy of my people is without music and without parades.
If my people had revolted against the tyrants and died in defiance, I would have said that death for Liberty was more Honourable than the life of servitude.
Whoever reaches Eternity with sword in his hand lives as long as there is Justice.
If my Countrymen had entered the World War and were destroyed in battle to the last man, I would have said it was a wild hurricane destroying the green and the dead branches; I would have said death under the force of a hurricane is better than life in the arms of olde age.
If an earthquake had swallowed my people and loved ones, I would have said it the law of Nature directed by a power beyond the comprehension of man. It is foolish to attempt to solve its Mysteries.
But my people did not die in rebellion, did not die in battle and they were not buried by an earthquake.
My people died on the Cross. My people died with their Arms Stretched toward both East and West and their Eyes Seeking in the Darkness of the Skies.
They died in Silence because the ears of Humanity had become Deaf to their Cry.
They died but they were not criminals.
They died because they were Peaceful.
They died in the Land that produced Milk and Honey.
They died because the hellish serpent seized all their flocks and all the harvest of their fields.
Mirrors of the Soul;
~Kahlil Gibran
~Beannaichte'
24 July, 2015
@beannaichte.twitter.com
