Lamenting Soul Poem by David Lazar

How deserted lies the country,
Once so full of dynamic,
How like a widow is she now,
Who once was great among the world!
She who was queen among them
Has now become a Covid slave.


Her foes have become her masters.
All the splendor has departed her,
Her princes are like deer that find no pasture.
Her priests jobless and her scientists impotent.
No one dare to hug her in support.
And her co-powers blame each other.


In her afflictions and anguish labour dwells in exile.
All her roads and gateways are desolate,
For no one comes to her appointed festivals.
Her weakest perishes in the field;
While they searched for food,
To keep themselves alive.


She is in torment within;
Kneeled and Cerebrating on her battle field.
How distressed she is;
At her son's gluttony and venial sin.
Did she transgress greatly and so has become unclean?
Did her filthiness cling to her skirts?


As the clouds of fear moves away,
And her splendor returns
The blue sky endow her sons new vision;
Not exposing to her old sins
Ward off from her captivity
Glorious and be victorious in the battle.


All who pass your way that day
Clap their hands at, and say,
"Is this the country, " She dreams?
Put on her undefiled wedding garments,
Calling her as‘the perfection of beauty';
Her sons then become brighter than snow.