The Tragedy of Mong Russey
by
Ung Sinan
1978
The bones of the Khmer people
Are piled like mountains
In the canals, rice fields,
and
Irrigation ditches.
The night held cries for
help,
But the morning brought dead
bodies.
The rice paddies were filled
with
The blood of Khmers
Who were tied up and slain,
Never uttering a complaint.
Many died in the hospital
For lack of medical care.
Others were forced to marry
Someone they did not love.
They did not trust the other,
Each thinking of their own
life.
With too little food and excruciating
labors
Their bodies turned bony and
frail
Becoming more animal than
human.
A single bowl of watery rice
Had to sustain them through the long,
hard days
But they continued to work
hard
If only to sustain their
lives.
An inappropriate word
Could mean execution for the whole
family.
When they killed,
The Khmer Rouge did not
discriminate.
Both scholars and babies were their
victims.
My three years in Mong Russey were full
of fear
I was happy to survive for one
day
But always worried about the
next.
When will Khmers be able to live
happily,
Free from power-hungry
leaders
Who killed their own race
For their personal benefit?
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