PEASANT’S HOPE FOR EMANCIPATION
|PEASANT’S HOPE FOR EMANCIPATION
|Mercury lightens my veins to see the field burning:
a fountain splashes the walls of my heart.
|Sap rises hectic
up my stallc of pride and shoots vision like a green leaf
over my budding eyes.
My heart is a redness like the red panic
of the cane and the wind intoxicated
tossing confetti in the air.
Die not great glare
be a symptom
of our rise that we
take to the sky
like the bird or the proud wave.
Soon will be no cloud
on the conscience of
the morning sky
to spill the evening breath.
lying on the lips
and song sitting
on the strings of the heart.