Poem Hunter
SJ ( / )


This race,
this wonderful race!

Here it kisses the hangman
with a golden noose round its neck;
here for a fistful of mulberries
it fights to the blood with a brother;
here it gets drunk with rage,
foaming at the mouth,
here it plucks the live heart
from a dove.

This race,
this wonderful race!

In its furrows
under the sun awakens
a flower with a biblical name:

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