“The Trees That March”

Fight until your weary voice send sounds of roaring waves,
to the highest of the stars,
like a mad soldier in the harsh rain,
you will bring forth a new season,
to exchange the sign of the moon for the sign of peace.
In stormy seasons, don’t you stop the fight.

Fight until the trees are shaken,
for the forest to embrace you,
the leaves bow down for justice,
new roots spring forth to broadcast the good news.
Let the islands hurry to march with you, for a new season of joy,
new branches rising up for a new day.

Fight with the rigor of the Palm tree,
to cover the people in sorrow under your wings,
to shine like the rising sun.
Let your poetry of resistance destroy the old tree,
trees of pain,
trees of tears,
trees of death,
to create a new nation that will last,
a new generation that is yet to be born.

Fight with the strength of the eagle,
to drive away human ego,
to reconcile children of God,
to live in the same village as one,
until we win the trophy of love.