The Earth’s Lament

Oh, mother of sorrows, Earth, wounded and bare, Cries out for the spirits, The trees stripped in despair.

Each blade of grass trembles, Its song caught in the air, While echoes of the past, Linger here and there.

The rivers heavy with dreams, The mountains bowed low, In every corner lies a tale— Sweet nature’s bitter woe.

• Richard Huelsenbeck