SHE LEFT ME her flower of smile taking my fruit of pain. She clapped her hands and said, she had won. The noon had eyes like the mad, red thirst raged in the sky. I opened the basket and found the flower dead.
LET THE EARTH and the water, the air and the fruits of my country be sweet, my God. Let the homes and marts, the forests and fields of my country be full, my God Let the promises and hopes, the deeds and words of my country be true, my God. Let the lives and hearts of the sons and daughters of my country be one, my God.