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The Rain Will Come
Among all the nations of the earth,
Dust settles in the pockets of our purses,
The seats of our offices are occupied
But are better vacant
They are being warmed up
For no reward
Infants lay to eternal rest.
On the blood of a Carmel,
Our seeds are fed
When wilt thou restore the unicorn?
And when shall the showers of joy fall again?
The birds fall from the sky,
Horses die at their stable,
Cows denied of their product,
The last ...