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| Ours the rotten heart Passing our mask of death On to our sons We have become so deeply sad Consigned to pain Serpent among sisters In the wake of the invaded I summon your rains To extinguish the fire Burning inside men In this Age of mothers In all that sleeps Grief among brothers Bled upon the streams Fingernails closing Upon the world of ancient Bearing a new one Pain when the time is of birth Courage when it’s time to inspire us Our land is a woman Whose perfect figure We are not worth to touch In this Age of mothers In all that sleeps |
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