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Write in the cliff now the names of the Kings.
Write in the rock we are here.
Carve deep our triumphs into the stone.
Etch out how we tend to our arms and our fields.
Descry the dark names of oppressors,
lovingly hew in our heroes names.
Name every one of our brave.
Write on the cliff now the shapes of the Gods.
Carve out their ikons and signs.
They will see bull’s horns and ram’s heads
and remember we were here.
They will at another time recall us from sleep
and then the wind will not blow over us
as if we had never been here.
copyright 2004
Harold
Lorin |
