The young farmer is not dead <br />the earth that loves him, still remembers him, <br />where his young wife was raped by barbarians <br />and his small toddler daughter as well <br />where his farm house has been burned down to rubble <br />and is still smoking after the mad plundering <br />he lies half scorched, his face distorted <br />and who will be able to bring some justice here? <br />The farmer lifts his fists against the wind, <br />stand against the horizon somewhat blinded, <br />searches perplexed for missing answers <br />tries to find a judgement form God <br />and the wind turns dust up from the red ground, <br />even the earth is wounded.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-young-farmer/
