GREAT SOUL IN MY COUNTRY 1 © 2007

My glory be! To weep the world’s pain,

Here in this clear herald, I too

Stain it with my sorrow.

Embracing the words in a gesture of comfort,

That never let me fall dead,

On the ground of tranquillity.

I ask silence for help, and receive a gentle breeze,

Caressing my furrowed face

With warm, volcanic tears, erupting

From the deep recesses of my soul.

The cry, the world’s pain,

In a pleading prayer,

Rises in the air like an ancient chant.

Echoing the anguish, the despair,

But also the hope,

That blooms in the cracks of my being.

---

Play

---