After the first and second poets were killed, the third poet wrote a poem.
They shoot at heads
But they do not know
That revolution lives in the heart.
After the third poet was killed, the fourth poet wrote a poem.
Don’t let your blood run cold
Pool your blood for this fight.
After the fourth poet was killed,
his body consumed by fire on May 14,
there was no verse.
At least for a moment.
But poetry remains alive in Myanmar
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