Change

By Tararith Kho

seeing our home village turns prosperous,

in which people are struggling to survive,

in their harmful roles, status, and fame,

thus, living their lives just like bugs.

 

Natural lakes have turned into dry land,

making way for skyscrapers to show off,

as the property of the contemporary people,

thus, having no salty or plain taste of Khmer.

 

Inheritance has turned to lost its soul,

quietly fading away with lack of caregivers;

so has the tones of language,

with love having turned to what comes in from the outside.

Turning from independence to dependence,

One has fallen into a snare trap,

with no ability to distinguish black from white,

soaking in the pit of unhappiness.