Tomorrow, My Island
Tomorrow, My Island


Tomorrow, my island Tomorrow,
In the hourglass of time,
A strand In hand,
handful of debris, of marine polyps
My beach, its beauty,
A gift of the ages and wise
Its sand slips through the hands,
At the yards
To bring development
To the tastes of new people
Separating rich and non-rich,
Like flocks The sun already discriminates,
For one, a skin bath
From the other, snatched by cruelty
And hard work the tunic of his body, his skin
My island, in the ocean,
your beauty is immensely, unique
But the money dictates, tests, rises, and catches
And erect, for the elders, gates
That only the non-poor escape
Speaking of a rise,
the weather forecasts
Dark times, to whom,
We will be used as prey
We're already falling apart
on what we owe
Threaten with pressure,
We are there for everything, to save
His job
And become, odious and chatwa
And what more and controversies
That ethnic criteria
To integrate the demagogic herachia,
Formerly qualified, democratic?
The future, uncertain
The same songs and refrains
Because today will always remain
The day after the yesterday
Now we've had enough
In the name of dynamic progress
Aquatic pollution
Drastic climate change
Despite the profit, economic
Skin your beauty, your physique
Do people have aphasic memory?
I don't blame them in any way
Nor do I call them fools
Everyone already has their burden,
His pain and his music
Heat: stress that bites
The wave of addiction is raging:
The famous chemical
Because in the lead, we evolve
In chaotic mode
Although it's not made
My being is heavily taxed
We try to put out the fire of our hunger
By the cents, rest of our money
My island, my homeland
Does the creator have optical problems?
Does he not see our sorrows and panics?
Insecurity breeds phobic moments
Towards his neighbor,
Previously, a similar, human
Mauritius, always, pearl of the tropics
Work of a poetic and artistic being
Strangers, see you angelic
Exquisite and exotic
But yours, the amnesiac memory
Faults of slanderous suffering
Nothing good, nothing funny
A handful of sand that
I let slide In front of the new property
From a rich expatriate
Its lands, facing the sea
Sealed paths
Above all, do not pass
A decorative hourglass containing
The grins of marine polyps
To my descendants, I leave them, I
In inherited, grant them