It’s so sweet then to remember
The grassy pond and the faint rustling of the alder,
That I have a father and a mother far away,
Who don’t care about all my verses,
To whom I am dear as a field and flesh,
Like the drizzling rain,
That in spring makes the greens soft.
They would come to pierce you
with the confessions of a thug
With forks for every cry of yours
Launched against me.
The grassy pond and the faint rustling of the alder,
That I have a father and a mother far away,
Who don’t care about all my verses,
To whom I am dear as a field and flesh,
Like the drizzling rain,
That in spring makes the greens soft.
They would come to pierce you
with the confessions of a thug
With forks for every cry of yours
Launched against me.
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