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SONG
A railway station,
People busy, involved in their affairs.
A park keeper,
Enjoying cutting the flowers with his secateurs,
Pruning the roses.
This life is normal to some people.
But to people like us it is not normal at all.
So many things happen--
They are all part of life.
A battlefield,
Innocent people being killed.
I am sure we could change the course of the bullet--
Wars are not fought for hate,
But for pursuing further development.
I saw in my mind innocent
Easter.
Young as he was his whole head had been exploded.
To whom could I tell such neglect and cruelty?
Where does it come from?
I say no more.
This is a lonely song.
I sing in a peaceful valley
Where the glittering frost ignites with the spark of sun.
This beauty does not satisfy me.
Come my friends, who has got heart?
That we may dance
And come into effect,
Into the perpetual time.
20 November 1969
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