As we plan our upcoming Thanksgiving menus, imagine that future had American Indians of Plymouth Rock harbored staunch resentments similar to that of modern day political thinking. Consider the countless folks laboring the fields and vineyards of America, so that we as beneficiaries of that original kindness might savor a reflective moment. Searching our mindsets, cast aside the arrogance of the hour, committing within our collective passions, that goodness demands our passing forward a centuries-old benevolence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem