Monday, August 26, 2013

Sandwich Song

The cherries on the cake
                      passionate red
Like the sunset blood of warriors
Who died defending these
            breastlike expressions
Of women in their villages.
The sun is shining on top of cream,
Golden rivers, honey-dew creases
Run through its hills.
Once there was snow
On top of the mountains
That we felt was ours
In its beautiful shine.
Once rivers ran through creases,
Honeylike in the rays of setting sun,
Goldlike in the eyes of invaders.
Gold of corn equals to the gold of sun,
Does it equal to the gold of coins?
That is what we asked our brothers and sisters,
When winter came and
Cream-snow filled in the valleys
Where once there was sun.
It shattered forests,
It scattered lands,
It turned the soul of the land we all owned
Greasy and raining with tears of our
                      children, women, elders
Who bowed before the storm
That was coming in from the North Lands.
The storm called war.
So cold, so inimical is the sandwich lying in front of me -
Child of many deaths and many tragedies,
Born by the land we have owned once,
With honey-creases of canyons,
With golden rivers in the
Cream-white snow,
Cherry-red love for our homeland,
Breadlike hope for life that holds
All Mother Earth's children together.   

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