Get Your Premium Membership


We are the children of the Four A wandering race The leaves, trees and streams feed us The earth, water and winds sustain us We belong to no man A race so complicated You talk about us with hushed voices From behind your hands Always looking down The idea of us so precious You don't deserve us Never looking in our eyes As though the simple mention of us will bring you conflict Our women so beautiful Seeing them leaves the vision in your head for days So you look away From our mystical, regal creatures As we are the children of the forests, rivers and dessert The snow in the north We have always been We have always existed You gave us our name It was never your right You called us gypsies You look at us and see aluminium homes Your curious eyes scanning our sites Picking up on the old battered cars Camp fires and dirt Nomads fighting with black eyes Traveling through these lands You do not see our beauty As you are not children of the air A race so loyal like thunder and lighting Inside our homes lives a love so vast and thick You can scoop it up and eat it It feels like candy floss Smells like Apple blossom We a deadly protective race Taught from years of persecution We learnt to only live with our own Wandering through life Never having a home When we burned, fire was so angry Our ash turned to snow flakes The wind was so distraught Our ash fluttered over holy ground Settled on the barren We grew a paradise Earth was so hurt you took her children For you paradise will be forever out of reach Teasing you Just before it's in your grasp The ocean washes it away Burning us made water scream You had killed the children of the Four We don't expect to be understood Our wisdom lays too deep The Nazis didn't just kill and persecute the Jewish souls They killed us too Put your nose in the air Just so You can still smell us on the wind

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 9/16/2016 6:55:00 AM
"Just before it's in your grasp, the ocean washes it away..." So very true. Congratulations on a brilliant poem! We poets are all gypsies indeed.
Login to Reply
Date: 8/1/2014 9:03:00 AM
L.K.N., I am surprised no one commented on this mesmerizing work, it is so brilliant and educational to those who do not know the history of the Rom. That line in the first part " the idea of us so precious" nicely sums up what follows. Gypsies in the media have been so romanticized ( no pun ) and stereotyped, we fail to see the real suffering and toughness of the People. I faved this.
Login to Reply
known nothing Avatar
little known nothing
Date: 8/1/2014 9:22:00 AM
Thank you I think people forget that gypsies were persecuted as well as others. I can only write what I know and of how I live. When i go home later to my aluminium shed later I'll read some of yours. Thanks for the warm comment. L.K.N