Darkness chained me to my tattered reed mat
The hand of tyranny sprinkled
The soot of ignorance in my eyes, and sleep
Hammered my head with slogans
Then a nightmare stumbled on my sprawled life
Tripped on the alarm of my heart
And set me singing a healing song.

With song I bandage my ravaged land
With the thread of song I sew the chopped heads
Back on the shoulders of the plucked flowers.
I plug the neck gush with a war chant
With a sharp spear whose tongue sings
I rip the veil of darkness from our land
And the nightmare flees my secret light.

September 18, 1984