The Three Islands Sleep

The Three Islands Sleep! Sleep, sleep, the islands asleep! Sleep while the winds blow on her face, On her trees, and on her mountains and hills, Sleep when the thieves dressed in suit come in, Like the befuddled man sleeps in his own vomit, Or like the overworked farmer, who in his bed creeps. Sleep! Sleep! The islands sleep! Sleep with unclosed eyes, like he who can’t sleep, Sleeps to the sound of alarm, the fight for her life, and her sea, Sleeps, when the red crimson blood from her vain shed, Like anesthesia in flesh, make it numb, feel no pain, Or like the brain hypnotized, would not think for itself. Sleep! Sleep! The islands sleep! Sleep when the foreigners come, move her out of her bed, From the kitchen, living room, on the trees she sojourns, Sleeps, though her offspring bewail, for some bread and a rest, For schoolmasters that left, with no school nor recess, And the peril and risk that play daily on the streets. Sleep! Sleep! The islands sleep! Sleep, the three of them sleep, when they empower the fiendish, To keep the ball rolling, the robbing and defrauding, When the ballots that are twisted, in their hands feel no different, Sleep when the liars can lead them, but the truth doesn't reach them, Or when death sentence upon them, they hear, neither see their grave ending. Sleep! Sleep! The islands sleep! Sleep when the corrupt one comes, with false hope to promote, Like better jobs, new buildings, profuse gifts are given, Sleeps like the reefs and the cays in the deep, When the hurricane sweeps, still they all in deep sleep. Sleep! Sleep! The islands sound a sleep! Sleep! Sleep! The three of them sleep, when rain water falls and seeps, Seeps through their pores, deep down in their souls water leaks, With thorns, wild trees and tall bush growing from underneath, The Cassava, plantain, watermelon, sweet potato, food produced choked and killed, Like invaders our land destroy, but we sit and daydream, since our islands sound asleep. Sleep! Sleep! The three islands asleep!