...and the gods become weepers
My untrained tears trek
From mishapened eyes
Over pok marked places;
A deserted brown land with only
A curled tree here and there
To lean by: this land cannot live.
The bombs have all exploded!
The parched land opens in one place
To shed woes, and in another--
Beyond the cupid's bow--
The mouth of a sad god drinks them in.
...on the day I heard and saw what the pol pots did to Cambodia. Them days, all of us drank bitter weepings.
My untrained tears trek
From mishapened eyes
Over pok marked places;
A deserted brown land with only
A curled tree here and there
To lean by: this land cannot live.
The bombs have all exploded!
The parched land opens in one place
To shed woes, and in another--
Beyond the cupid's bow--
The mouth of a sad god drinks them in.
...on the day I heard and saw what the pol pots did to Cambodia. Them days, all of us drank bitter weepings.