All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

(Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in Burmese)

No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.

Article 9:

Those who have the kindness of benefit for others

For the sake of living beings, do not relax their powers.

Though these holy beings bear a heavy burden,

They never put it down and dwell in discouragement.

*the Great Chariot Sutra*

Burma is known as a golden land made of several ranges (or ‘Yoma’ in Burmese) where thousands of tribal memories, wisdoms, religions, cultures and beauties of plants and animals dwell. The rivers, all of them are indeed important to the people and other existences, snake through these beautiful mountainous regions and flow from the north to the south where Indian Ocean is. The peoples, Burma has 103 ethnics, all of them used to be really generous and all they knew was to give.

Since the modern day’s dictators have systematically destroyed, now the golden land is famous for its narcotic trades, refugees, migrant workers and various atrocities and sufferings.

One day, we’ll be free again and the land will be again famous for its beauty.

the great saga of incompressible longevity

in revolution, ideology is thin within ‘must win’;
non-violent, violent, in this sensitive world
say, you may, anything but don’t bore
need quality, good quality, heavy substance
and score!
no more gastric gusts– enough hunger-strike!
fight, anyhow but don’t fall behind
fights constant fight, five times a year
no fear, clear strikes – get them!
pockets emptied, brains fried,
as the world being asked cries with us
sacrifices underneath, whirling emblems of peace over
the braving causalities
elites an’ schoolchildren, monks an’ laities,
burma roads humbly red in grease!
in hunger, in thirst, stupid kids got some guns – and
fires meet
virgins struggle,
screams explode;
with their feet, forced
porters clear the mines...
where we go, where we get! lost but resolve shyne!
maybe tomorrow!
we do love our neighbours, they don’t loathe us either!
cheap labours and’ cattle traders crossing the borders,
the refugees make a living!
the communist gifting the lunatic more power of fire;
as free world sifting the asylum seekers with classic nets!
for us be
honest an’ righteous, this is moral revolution!
our national evolution!
should freedom come from the west or east?
plots composed in mayhem, mockery achieved its rhythm;
stubborn tricks are everything, whether old or not working!
unruly generals in limousine, the vendors
selling ideological materials being run over
along the cocky lore of life –
waves, fish for lust, riddles...
the cradles have just raised some new hopes
the ladders have been crowded and broken
the conveyor-belts jammed with unsurprising events
couldn’t carry on anymore?
leadership telling unscored speeches all over again
a stroke at heart – pain in the guts
new game has started once more...

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