Untiled 6
>> Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Mixed in reddish earth,
Tragedy trying to sleep itself;
Always exhumed from its
forced slumber,
Every time a pointed iron combs,
Forefathers' wearied face of land
Mixed in reddish earth,
Tragedy trying to sleep itself;
Always exhumed from its
forced slumber,
Every time a pointed iron combs,
Forefathers' wearied face of land
Drops of rain over
Rice field of clay,
Bathing man’s sacred
nakedness.
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