Author Information
SONG OF CONSOLATION (TO MY HOMELAND)
Put off that black wears
And on to a pure one
It make you ugly this bitter water
That wet your face
Let the source be stopped
And mind not as they say
Mother of black minds
Her foetus is flaming
Her ideas her evil
Profess all, all is wright
All her vasts plague fast
And her pure are poor
Put off your black wears
Cloud is without color
Day soon come and meet your night
Just merely dreaming in your sleep
Reality rain promise to fall
The rain that will reign your garden
Let on the white
And dry the bitter water
Your blood and bone are woken
Your air settled
Your waters are cleared
Your trees are smiling
And here are all
Ready to keep your company as shadow keeps
its soul
Gathered are all your children
And hurries in for their mother
A good night.
