To Mr. President

To Mr. President A privilege it still remains Among your peers Both better and more sophisticated Yet we are happy not sad The chance to father your fatherland An to mother your motherland You know the principles of fatherhood And ethics of motherhood The father delights in his children's smile And in his daughter's leisure And sleeps not when hunger churns Likewise in the time of ill health’s He can do anything to have his wards work Instead of wasting them walking Some refuse to return After a fortunate run Fearing post traumatic experiences Father, make this house conducive for life And they must return to their origin To continue the lineage Father remember that fever killed one And flood took with him one Yet auto crash on the death trap And one in learning-war camp called Mahadum died. Father, see our chances You can still have generations But you must revive The entire sphere Our land is fertile Our trees fruitful Your sons strong and willing Give them a piece of land And see their harvests Our leaves herbs Why must we die of diseases? Father you know how mother died On her birth stool Because of neglected task Of gathering her medicine May her soul rest in peace Now we must eat like in the Passover With our belt beyond our stomachs Surely, these will Passover And they will less mock Saying, a blessed land Without a blessed man