Good-bye, My Country
By Prum Saing
Lakeside, CA
- Oh Kampuchea, how I dream of
you!
- My heart is broken
- And yours, too.
- The loved ones of your people
- Died in their native soil,
- Unmarked and unsung.
-
- The mind couldn’t copy,
and thought remains,
- So I feel I can’t go home
again.
- Through mountains and forests
- of my country I fled
- Until I found a roof and a bed
- from where I’ll soon
depart
- With someone who truly has
stolen my heart.
-
- The path I chose was tragic
and rough,
- But my survival proves courage
is enough
- To carry me through to a world
so new,
- In which the future is without
a clue.
-
- The past has gone and the
future is
- So I must try to forget what
happened and how.
- I know in whom I’ll
confide.
-
- The future is bright
- And the past is the past.
- Our culture will be carried to
many other lands,
- far from Angkor Wat and Phnom
Penh,
- But I will record it with
paper and pen
- And our customs will surely
survive
- As long as one single Khmer is
alive.
-