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The head of tyranny sprinkled
The soot of ignorance in my eyes, and sleep
Hammered my head with slogans,
Then a nightmare stumbled on my sprawled life,
Tripped on the alarm of my heart,
And set me singing a healing song.
With song I bandage my ravaged land;
With the thread of song I sew the chopped heads
Back on the shoulders of the plucked flowers.
I plug the neck gash with a war chant;
With a sharp spear whose tongue sings,
I rip the veil of darkness from our land,
And the nightmare flees my secret light.