When the golden rays of the sun sprout forth, and the
sky is blue with health
A chant will echo from south to north, a cry of abundant
But what if one day the sky turned grey, and the sun hid
What would the meaning of the cry convey, would it not
be filled with disgrace?
When flames leap forth and mar the ground, when the
cries of humans fade
Should not old rivalries in forgiveness drowned, be at-
least for a time allayed?
But the leaders of the world would call me traitor, and
silence me behind cold bars
So instead I flee around the craters, dying in silence
still by the world’s scars