When the trumpet sounded, it was
all prepared on the earth,
the Jehovah parcelled out the earth
Meanwhile Indians are falling
into the sugared chasms
of the harbours, wrapped
for burials in the mist of the dawn:
a body rolls, a thing
that has no name, a fallen cipher, in justices. tony
Does anybody know who translated this version of the poem?
A powerful piece denouncing The United Fruit Company etc
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12/7/2021 9:42:25 AM # 184.108.40.2063