The first peace, which is the most important, is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize that at the center of the universe dwells the Great Spirit, and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us.
-- Black Elk (1863-1950)
With the great migratory wave of refugees now breaking on the shores of Europe, I have to talk about humanitarianism, and the lessons we have not learned.
Clearly, over the centuries, humans have been at war with humans.
We have enslaved each other; tortured each other; persecuted each other; humans have carried out the worst atrocities towards other humans; and still it goes on.
What are the refugees fleeing from? Persecution racial and religious, death threats, extreme poverty, and hunger, …
Would we not be doing the same thing for our own families if we were subjected to the same persistent arduous living conditions? Has migration not always been based on looking for a better life?
Most of these people have had to leave their homes and all their belongings. Most of them are penniless. They have left behind their only means to earn a living.
Since World War II, the world has changed dramatically. Air travel, business globalization, cell phones and internet communications have brought about a revolution of increased interconnectivity. Yet the global movement of people has become increasingly restricted and contentious. Immigration laws have become stricter. Paranoia has grown collectively as a result of Terrorism and religious propaganda.
In the last few years, most of the refugees are fleeing from War; from the war in Syria, from the Boko Harem in Nigeria, from the oppressive and violent regimes in Africa, and in the Taliban and Isis in the Middle East.
Forced migration has been happening for centuries due to conflict and extreme hunger.
As an example of forced migration, I mention the Millions of free West Africans who were kidnapped into slavery by Slave traders in the 18th century
In her book, Forced Migration of African Americans by Jennifer Farley, she quotes this mournful poem….
Who are we looking for, who are we looking for?
It's Equiano we're looking for.
Has he gone to the stream? Let him come back.
Has he gone to the farm? Let him return.
It's Equiano we're looking for.
“This African chant mourns the loss of Olaudah Equiano, an eleven-year-old boy who, in 1755, was kidnapped from his home in what is now Nigeria. He was purchased by a captain in the British Royal Navy, was later sold to a Quaker merchant in the Caribbean, and in 1766 bought his freedom. He wrote his autobiography in 1789, giving readers a rare glimpse of how it felt to be kidnapped from home in Africa and to survive onboard a slave trader's ship. In his autobiography, Equiano wrote, "There are few events in my life that have not happened to many." By this, he referred to the kidnapping of millions of free West Africans by slave traders, who then sold them to wealthy merchants and plantation owners.”
( excerpt from Forced migration of African Americans by Jennifer Farley)
With the criminalization of refugees and migrants who arrive on the borders of many countries in Europe, and Australia, the world seems to be turning its back on its’ most vulnerable. Change can be uncomfortable, but it is imperative to ensure we meet the obligation of protection and human dignity.
Zeid Raad al-Hussein, the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, touched on the issue of prejudiced mindset when he told the U.N. Human Rights Council in Geneva that he was “shocked and shamed by the frequent demonization of migrants that we see in many countries whose people benefit from prosperity, peace and ease.”
The United Nations ask that we recognize Three Pillars of Human Security in order to properly care for the Human body and soul.
1. Freedom from want.
2. Freedom from Fear.
3. Freedom from Indignity
That is what ALL refugees are seeking. That is what all “civilized” nations should be able to provide.
Peace, to have meaning for many who have only known suffering in both peace and war, must be translated into bread or rice, shelter, health and education, as well as freedom and human dignity.
-- Ralph Johnson Bunche (1904-1971)
There is no trust more sacred than the one the world holds with children. There is no duty more important than ensuring that their rights are respected, that their welfare is protected, that their lives are free from fear and want and that they grow up in peace.
-- Kofi Annan
In my poem, The Lost Boys,(2014) I try to convey the message of the United Nations within the context of Maslow’s pyramid, and mourn those deviants who stray from moral norms and commit atrocities toward their fellow man..
The Lost Boys , by Susan Golden
Amid
acts of incomprehensible violence
contemplating Maslow's pyramid
in stark contrast and benevolence
for our survival, we demand
a certain hierarchy of needs
in order that our children stand
and safely lead
a meaningful and better life
than those lost souls who preach Jihad
who's lives are fraught with bloody strife
and end in doom
There is no room
for sentiment for them
They had
a chance when they were very young
but it has past
What damage then, is done
Perhaps they lacked love and security
Perhaps they felt abandoned
lost
Father's absence or obscurity
spawned adult boys
at what cost to humanity
The unity
the spirit of our world
All cut up, spat out, and gnarled
What then do we need to build anew
What principles do we need to follow?
What then do we have to do
to ensure a safe tomorrow?
The UN recommends we recognize
Three Pillars of Human Security
They identify and analyze
three essential rules for integrity
Freedom from Want
Freedom from Fear
Freedom from Indignity
Want
implies the basic need for food
For nourishment and drink
For food and water without feud,
A place to sleep
The right to think
Freedom from fear
a sense of security
A sense of morality
and of integrity
Of belonging
Of love and affection
Not indifference or rejection
But secure in their protection
Freedom from Indignity
means preserving someone's self esteem
No ridiculing or bullying
or subjecting to blaspheme
No humiliation no retaliation
No physical harm
or threatening with Arms
Human respect embraces all
As we reflect the United Nation's call
Essential tools for basic human needs
These Three Pillars are the seeds
For a more peaceful contented world
For those lost boys we can only pray
that Epiphany will come one day
and a new found peace be unfurled
The atrocities of war, and the grieving of the dead is recorded in Poetry, Art and Music throughout the Centuries. Ancient Egyptian and Greek cultures are packed with stories of war and depictions of battles, both glorifying victory, as well as mourning the consequences.
The Trojan War was the greatest Greek conflict depicted in Greek Mythology, a war that influenced literature and arts for centuries. The Iliad was the most famous epic poem written during that period, along with the Odyssey by Homer
"Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters’ souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles."
(excerpt from the Iliad )
And here is an early example of Tibetan Poetry, probably written between the years of 768-830
To a Friend Lost in the Tibetan War
by Zhang Ji
Last year you were sent to garrison Yuezhi,
Soon the whole army was destroyed below the walls.
Since then, Tibet and China have been cut off, no news;
Are you dead, or alive, wandering some distant land forever?
No one went to bring back the abandoned tents;
A few horses returned with torn flags we couldn’t make out.
I would have a ceremony for you, but what if you are alive?
So, all I can do is shed a few tears for you, lost at the end of the sky.
Translated by Geoff Waters 2007
Skipping abruptly into the 19th century, a famous poem of the American civil war, The Blue and the Gray, talks of the futility of war, when it comes to “judgement day” .. we all end up in the same place, so what’s the point…..
The Blue And The Gray
Francis Miles Finch (1827-1907)
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray
These in the robbings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment -day,
Wet with the rain, the Blue
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray
No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.
Each country, each culture has had its time to mourn the effects of war. Each culture has a trail of tears that it has shed about the atrocities of war. Each culture recognizes the pain of losing their loved ones, especially their children. Yet children are dying, of illness and injury, drowning, suffocating, and starving while their parents desperately try to relocate them to a better life.
Peace, in the sense of the absence of war, is of little value to someone who is dying of hunger or cold. It will not remove the pain of torture inflicted on a prisoner of conscience. It does not comfort those who have lost their loved ones in floods caused by senseless deforestation in a neighboring country. Peace can only last where human rights are respected, where people are fed, and where individuals and nations are free.
-- The XIVth Dalai Lama
Come up from the Fields Father
By Walt Whitman
COME up from the fields father, here's a letter from our Pete,
And come to the front door mother, here's a letter from thy dear
son.
Lo, 'tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages with leaves fluttering in the
moderate wind,
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis'd
vines,
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?)
Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and
with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers
well.
Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the fields come father, come at the daughter's call.
And come to the entry mother, to the front door come right away.
Fast as she can she hurries, something ominous, her steps trembling,
She does not tarry to smooth her hair nor adjust her cap.
Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is sign'd,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother's soul!
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main
words only,
Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish,
taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.
Ah now the single figure to me,
Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint,
By the jamb of a door leans.
Grieve not so, dear mother, (the just-grown daughter speaks
through her sobs,
The little sisters huddle around speechless and dismay'd,)
See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better.
Alas poor boy, he will never be better, (nor may-be needs to be
better, that brave and simple soul,)
While they stand at home at the door he is dead already,
The only son is dead.
But the mother needs to be better,
She with thin form presently dressed in black,
By day her meals untouch'd, then at night fitfully sleeping, often
waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape and
withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.
When will we ever learn?
In the well-known song by Pete Seeger “Where have all the Flowers Gone “, (made famous by Peter, Paul and Mary in the 60’s), the lyrics ask that age old question. When will we ever learn?
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the song, it sings a simple message depicting the domino effect of war, and how the cause and effects are circular and repetitive.
Where have all the Flowers gone? Girls have picked them everyone; Where have all the young girls gone? Taken husbands every one ,Where have all the young men gone? Gone to soldiers everyone; Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards everyone; Where have all the graveyards gone? Gone to Flowers every one….When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?
Last year, struck by the many wars in the world, based essentially on religious beliefs, I wrote a poem called Precious World, previously featured in an earlier blog. I now provide a link via #soundcloud, so that you may hear my own rendition.
Precious World, by Susan Golden (2014)
https://soundcloud.com/susan-golden/singaling-precious-world
And finally, I would like to bring you “ Letter to an unknown Soldier”, written and read to you by my sister Bridget Cousins, who is also a talented musician, composer and writer herself.
The letter was written as part of a collective project organized by BBC radio to celebrate and honor those lost in World War 1. Bridget’s letter is based on a true story; a love story, another tragic consequence of war and conflict.
https://soundcloud.com/bridget-cousins/letter-to-an-unknown-soldier
Youth is the first victim of war; the first fruit of peace. It takes 20 years or more of peace to make a man; it takes only 20 seconds of war to destroy him
Baudouin 1
“Let him who has not a single speck of migration to blot his family escutcheon cast the first stone...if you didn't migrate then your father did, and if your father didn't need to move from place to place, then it was only because your grandfather before him had no choice but to go, put his old life behind him in search of the bread that his own land denied him...”
― José Saramago, The Notebook
-- Black Elk (1863-1950)
With the great migratory wave of refugees now breaking on the shores of Europe, I have to talk about humanitarianism, and the lessons we have not learned.
Clearly, over the centuries, humans have been at war with humans.
We have enslaved each other; tortured each other; persecuted each other; humans have carried out the worst atrocities towards other humans; and still it goes on.
What are the refugees fleeing from? Persecution racial and religious, death threats, extreme poverty, and hunger, …
Would we not be doing the same thing for our own families if we were subjected to the same persistent arduous living conditions? Has migration not always been based on looking for a better life?
Most of these people have had to leave their homes and all their belongings. Most of them are penniless. They have left behind their only means to earn a living.
Since World War II, the world has changed dramatically. Air travel, business globalization, cell phones and internet communications have brought about a revolution of increased interconnectivity. Yet the global movement of people has become increasingly restricted and contentious. Immigration laws have become stricter. Paranoia has grown collectively as a result of Terrorism and religious propaganda.
In the last few years, most of the refugees are fleeing from War; from the war in Syria, from the Boko Harem in Nigeria, from the oppressive and violent regimes in Africa, and in the Taliban and Isis in the Middle East.
Forced migration has been happening for centuries due to conflict and extreme hunger.
As an example of forced migration, I mention the Millions of free West Africans who were kidnapped into slavery by Slave traders in the 18th century
In her book, Forced Migration of African Americans by Jennifer Farley, she quotes this mournful poem….
Who are we looking for, who are we looking for?
It's Equiano we're looking for.
Has he gone to the stream? Let him come back.
Has he gone to the farm? Let him return.
It's Equiano we're looking for.
“This African chant mourns the loss of Olaudah Equiano, an eleven-year-old boy who, in 1755, was kidnapped from his home in what is now Nigeria. He was purchased by a captain in the British Royal Navy, was later sold to a Quaker merchant in the Caribbean, and in 1766 bought his freedom. He wrote his autobiography in 1789, giving readers a rare glimpse of how it felt to be kidnapped from home in Africa and to survive onboard a slave trader's ship. In his autobiography, Equiano wrote, "There are few events in my life that have not happened to many." By this, he referred to the kidnapping of millions of free West Africans by slave traders, who then sold them to wealthy merchants and plantation owners.”
( excerpt from Forced migration of African Americans by Jennifer Farley)
With the criminalization of refugees and migrants who arrive on the borders of many countries in Europe, and Australia, the world seems to be turning its back on its’ most vulnerable. Change can be uncomfortable, but it is imperative to ensure we meet the obligation of protection and human dignity.
Zeid Raad al-Hussein, the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, touched on the issue of prejudiced mindset when he told the U.N. Human Rights Council in Geneva that he was “shocked and shamed by the frequent demonization of migrants that we see in many countries whose people benefit from prosperity, peace and ease.”
The United Nations ask that we recognize Three Pillars of Human Security in order to properly care for the Human body and soul.
1. Freedom from want.
2. Freedom from Fear.
3. Freedom from Indignity
That is what ALL refugees are seeking. That is what all “civilized” nations should be able to provide.
Peace, to have meaning for many who have only known suffering in both peace and war, must be translated into bread or rice, shelter, health and education, as well as freedom and human dignity.
-- Ralph Johnson Bunche (1904-1971)
There is no trust more sacred than the one the world holds with children. There is no duty more important than ensuring that their rights are respected, that their welfare is protected, that their lives are free from fear and want and that they grow up in peace.
-- Kofi Annan
In my poem, The Lost Boys,(2014) I try to convey the message of the United Nations within the context of Maslow’s pyramid, and mourn those deviants who stray from moral norms and commit atrocities toward their fellow man..
The Lost Boys , by Susan Golden
Amid
acts of incomprehensible violence
contemplating Maslow's pyramid
in stark contrast and benevolence
for our survival, we demand
a certain hierarchy of needs
in order that our children stand
and safely lead
a meaningful and better life
than those lost souls who preach Jihad
who's lives are fraught with bloody strife
and end in doom
There is no room
for sentiment for them
They had
a chance when they were very young
but it has past
What damage then, is done
Perhaps they lacked love and security
Perhaps they felt abandoned
lost
Father's absence or obscurity
spawned adult boys
at what cost to humanity
The unity
the spirit of our world
All cut up, spat out, and gnarled
What then do we need to build anew
What principles do we need to follow?
What then do we have to do
to ensure a safe tomorrow?
The UN recommends we recognize
Three Pillars of Human Security
They identify and analyze
three essential rules for integrity
Freedom from Want
Freedom from Fear
Freedom from Indignity
Want
implies the basic need for food
For nourishment and drink
For food and water without feud,
A place to sleep
The right to think
Freedom from fear
a sense of security
A sense of morality
and of integrity
Of belonging
Of love and affection
Not indifference or rejection
But secure in their protection
Freedom from Indignity
means preserving someone's self esteem
No ridiculing or bullying
or subjecting to blaspheme
No humiliation no retaliation
No physical harm
or threatening with Arms
Human respect embraces all
As we reflect the United Nation's call
Essential tools for basic human needs
These Three Pillars are the seeds
For a more peaceful contented world
For those lost boys we can only pray
that Epiphany will come one day
and a new found peace be unfurled
The atrocities of war, and the grieving of the dead is recorded in Poetry, Art and Music throughout the Centuries. Ancient Egyptian and Greek cultures are packed with stories of war and depictions of battles, both glorifying victory, as well as mourning the consequences.
The Trojan War was the greatest Greek conflict depicted in Greek Mythology, a war that influenced literature and arts for centuries. The Iliad was the most famous epic poem written during that period, along with the Odyssey by Homer
"Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters’ souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles."
(excerpt from the Iliad )
And here is an early example of Tibetan Poetry, probably written between the years of 768-830
To a Friend Lost in the Tibetan War
by Zhang Ji
Last year you were sent to garrison Yuezhi,
Soon the whole army was destroyed below the walls.
Since then, Tibet and China have been cut off, no news;
Are you dead, or alive, wandering some distant land forever?
No one went to bring back the abandoned tents;
A few horses returned with torn flags we couldn’t make out.
I would have a ceremony for you, but what if you are alive?
So, all I can do is shed a few tears for you, lost at the end of the sky.
Translated by Geoff Waters 2007
Skipping abruptly into the 19th century, a famous poem of the American civil war, The Blue and the Gray, talks of the futility of war, when it comes to “judgement day” .. we all end up in the same place, so what’s the point…..
The Blue And The Gray
Francis Miles Finch (1827-1907)
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray
These in the robbings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment -day,
Wet with the rain, the Blue
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray
No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.
Each country, each culture has had its time to mourn the effects of war. Each culture has a trail of tears that it has shed about the atrocities of war. Each culture recognizes the pain of losing their loved ones, especially their children. Yet children are dying, of illness and injury, drowning, suffocating, and starving while their parents desperately try to relocate them to a better life.
Peace, in the sense of the absence of war, is of little value to someone who is dying of hunger or cold. It will not remove the pain of torture inflicted on a prisoner of conscience. It does not comfort those who have lost their loved ones in floods caused by senseless deforestation in a neighboring country. Peace can only last where human rights are respected, where people are fed, and where individuals and nations are free.
-- The XIVth Dalai Lama
Come up from the Fields Father
By Walt Whitman
COME up from the fields father, here's a letter from our Pete,
And come to the front door mother, here's a letter from thy dear
son.
Lo, 'tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages with leaves fluttering in the
moderate wind,
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis'd
vines,
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?)
Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and
with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers
well.
Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the fields come father, come at the daughter's call.
And come to the entry mother, to the front door come right away.
Fast as she can she hurries, something ominous, her steps trembling,
She does not tarry to smooth her hair nor adjust her cap.
Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is sign'd,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother's soul!
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main
words only,
Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish,
taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.
Ah now the single figure to me,
Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint,
By the jamb of a door leans.
Grieve not so, dear mother, (the just-grown daughter speaks
through her sobs,
The little sisters huddle around speechless and dismay'd,)
See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better.
Alas poor boy, he will never be better, (nor may-be needs to be
better, that brave and simple soul,)
While they stand at home at the door he is dead already,
The only son is dead.
But the mother needs to be better,
She with thin form presently dressed in black,
By day her meals untouch'd, then at night fitfully sleeping, often
waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape and
withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.
When will we ever learn?
In the well-known song by Pete Seeger “Where have all the Flowers Gone “, (made famous by Peter, Paul and Mary in the 60’s), the lyrics ask that age old question. When will we ever learn?
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the song, it sings a simple message depicting the domino effect of war, and how the cause and effects are circular and repetitive.
Where have all the Flowers gone? Girls have picked them everyone; Where have all the young girls gone? Taken husbands every one ,Where have all the young men gone? Gone to soldiers everyone; Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards everyone; Where have all the graveyards gone? Gone to Flowers every one….When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?
Last year, struck by the many wars in the world, based essentially on religious beliefs, I wrote a poem called Precious World, previously featured in an earlier blog. I now provide a link via #soundcloud, so that you may hear my own rendition.
Precious World, by Susan Golden (2014)
https://soundcloud.com/susan-golden/singaling-precious-world
And finally, I would like to bring you “ Letter to an unknown Soldier”, written and read to you by my sister Bridget Cousins, who is also a talented musician, composer and writer herself.
The letter was written as part of a collective project organized by BBC radio to celebrate and honor those lost in World War 1. Bridget’s letter is based on a true story; a love story, another tragic consequence of war and conflict.
https://soundcloud.com/bridget-cousins/letter-to-an-unknown-soldier
Youth is the first victim of war; the first fruit of peace. It takes 20 years or more of peace to make a man; it takes only 20 seconds of war to destroy him
Baudouin 1
“Let him who has not a single speck of migration to blot his family escutcheon cast the first stone...if you didn't migrate then your father did, and if your father didn't need to move from place to place, then it was only because your grandfather before him had no choice but to go, put his old life behind him in search of the bread that his own land denied him...”
― José Saramago, The Notebook
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