by Vladimir Marku
Golden bar is blood, frozen
Toil, starvation, suffering and misery
Gold melts, into paper
Dollars, Euros, Pounds and Yen
Colourful hands, feverishly caressing
The beautiful perfume of green, yellow and red papers
Come from the blood and sweat of the miserables
Weird, and mysterious how folks get fearfully intoxicated
Lose control and their spines liquidify into slugs
Souls rotten, hearts harden into stones
In contact with the papers, from melted gold bars
Precipitation of sweat and blood of the miserables.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Vladimir Marku: novelist, poet, essayist, translator and interpreter. Born Durrës, Albania, October, 1950. Graduated at Foreign Languages Faculty, Tirana University. Worked in the oil industry. Presently teaches English at a Private Foreign Languages Institute., Has written twenty-six books, all published, in Albanian and some in English.
Last updated May 29, 2012