RED
A THREE YEAR OLD BOY,
SO CUTE WITH HIS GIGGLING FACE.
HIS SHINING EYES SO FULL OF INNOCENCE,
HIS VOICE SO FULL OF LIFE;
ASKED HIS MOTHER,
WHAT THE COLOUR ‘RED’ LOOKED LIKE.
“RED,”SAID THE MOTHER SMILING,
“IS THE COLOUR OF ROSE,
THECOLOUR OF FRESH APPLES,
THE COLOUR OF YOUR CHEEKS
AND THAT OF YOUR LAUGHING LIPS.
REDIS THE COLOUR OF BEAUTY.
RED, MY SON,IS THE COLOUR OF “LIFE”
MILES AWAY IN JERUSALUM,
ANOTHER THREE YEAR OLD CHILD
WHOSE FACE HAD NO SMILE,
WHOSE EYES WERE ALIVE WITH SUFFERINGS,
AND WHOSE MIND WAS FULL OF HATRED.
THE BOY, FOR WHOM
LIFE WAS JUST ANOTHER NAME FOR MISERY,
ASKED HIS MOTHER, WHAT THE COLOUR ‘RED’ LOOKED LIKE.
“RED” SAID THE MOTHER CRYING,
“IS THE COLOUR OF WEEPING EYES,
IS THE COLOUR OF MOURNING FACES,
THE COLOUR OF BLEEDING WOUNDS;
THE WOUNDS OF YOUR POOR FATHER
WHOM YOU NEVER SAW,
THE WOUNDS OF YOUR YOUTH FUL BROTHER
WHOM YOU NEVER KNEW,
AND THE COLOUR OF BLOWN PIECES
OF THOSE BRAVE MEN WHO DIED FOR FREEDOM’S SAKE.
RED IS THE COLOUR OF YOUR BLOOD;
THE BLOOD THAT, ONE DAY, MAY BE NEEDED FOR FREEDOM’S SAKE;
THE BLOOD THAT IS BOUND TO MIX WITH THE SOIL .
RED IS THE COLOUR OF DANGER .
RED, MY SON, IS THE COLOUROF ‘DEATH’ .
