Bora Ring Poem by Judith Wright
Bora Ring
The song is gone; the dance
is secret with the dancers in the earth,
the ritual useless, and the tribal story
lost in an alien tale.
Only the grass stands up
to mark the dancing-ring; the apple-gums
posture and mime a past corroboree,
murmur a broken chant.
The hunter is gone; the spear
is splintered underground; the painted bodies
a dream the world breathed sleeping and forgot.
The nomad feet are still.
Only the rider's heart
halts at a sightless shadow, an unsaid word
that fastens in the blood of the ancient curse,
the fear as old as Cain.
hahaahahhahahhaah this makes me laugh! hahahahahahahahahaahhaaha! ! ! This is the worst poem i have ever read ahahahahahahahaahahhaah
He *said to them, "Let us go somewhere else to the towns nearby, so that I may preach the poems of judith."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 12:40:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem is a very very very I want to neck my self poem This shows no skill of rhythms at all I would prefer to watch the intro of dora which at least makes some sense. I recommend taking it down and re-thinking a life profession.
you are gay and fat