August 2, 1984 Poem by Fuad Rifka
August 2, 1984
What happened
to the wood gatherer?
In old times he used to sing
like a bird on the shoulder of a mountain
early in the morning.
And today he doesn't speak,
he became mute
like a stone in a cave.
Who knows? Maybe he got tired.
When the river gets tired
it loves the flat lands
and the darkness of the sea.
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9/24/2024 7:42:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
