My dear Slavs – a painful poem

Every once in a while the muses creep in, silently on their toes, gently, and trying not to disturb me, but I always notice their energy. This time they carried pain in their arms, heavy pain made of lead.

My dear Slavs

Oh, my dear Slavs,
if only you could see how foolish your national pride is,
how shallow your words and how empty your hands.
If only you could know how arrogant you are,
how blind when following commands.

You are nothing but pawns in someone else’s game.
But imagine there was a war and nobody came.

Oh, my dear Slavs,
if only you could remember how tall your poles once stood,
how far your voices echoed,
how gallantly Veles opens His underground doors.
If only you could recall your sacred heritage and
how loud Perun’s thunder roars.

Now even in sleep you bring your ancestors shame.
But imagine there was a war and nobody came.

Oh, my dear Slavs,
if only you could feel how heavy tears Mother Mokosh weeps,
how somber is Her song,
how broken Her heart when war comes.
If only you could recognize your brother’s face, oh,
how quickly you would beat on your drums.

You have forgotten that you share the same name.
But imagine there was a war and nobody came.

Oh, my dear Slavs,
if only you could relive the burning times of golden cross,
how swiftly they divided you,
how treacherous words were from holy men.
If only you could calculate the number of fallen,
would you be proud then?

So full of passion and eager to assign blame.
But imagine there was a war and nobody came.

by Towint

My dear Slavs, I call upon the Gods and Goddess, the old ones – remember them? – to bless you all with critical thought, curiosity, and open hearts, for you are once again blindly following trickery. You are sitting when you should stand and listening when you should scream. May They give you wisdom to recognize the faces of your brothers.

  • image by Reipen from pixabay.com

Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again my dear pagan soul. Rejoice in life, and life will rejoice in you. May God and Goddess bless you in everything you do and spirit guides follow you wherever you go.

Pagan life, pagan blog, blog o paganizmu

In love and light,
Towint

20 thoughts on “My dear Slavs – a painful poem

  1. What a powerful poem! May the ink in your mighty pen never run dry. May your thoughts always flow and reach not just the Slavs but the entire human race.

    Btw, how should I address you?

    Best wishes, always
    Harshi

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you for your feedback. You are very kind. I appreciate your words and receive them with humility and a smile. It is fine to address me with Towint (writing pseudonym), Green (spiritual name) or the translation of the word green in any language πŸ˜‰ As for my pronouns, they are she/her, but I have absolutely no problem if you think I am a man/woman or a tree, lol, because I take no offense from other people’s opinions.
      Stay blessed πŸ’š

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks, Cindy. I appreciate your kind words. πŸ’š
      As for the signature, I was thinking whether it was appropriate or not given the content, but came to the conclusion that a signature is after all only a signature and if it was on every other post, then why not here too. I am happy to hear that you agree πŸ’š

      Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s