Poem by Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak
And when that last day comes
My Guardian Angel,
you have been walking through life with me
for so many years now,
giving me a hand when I fall down helpless,
you protect me when I do not see evil myself,
and now there is so much evil in the world, so much
it multiplies, spreads, bleeds, and triumphs so fast.
Gods whom people have raised to the high pedestals,
they probably laugh loudly at humans’ stupidity.
They are supposed to make only good
and teach love for one’s neighbor,
it was the man who made them an instrument of war.
With the name of God on their lips, these “rational” beings
they conquered new lands, murdered, robbed, and raped.
Human history is written in blood and pain.
How many more cards we will be able to feel in it
before the last animal dies,
before we, people, will cut down the last tree,
before the fat belly oligarch throws in
to their unnecessary fortune the last bloody dollar?