Inside the fortress, the mountain is white with the bones of the dead;
Outside the fortress, the waters are red with the blood of the dead.
The murdered number one million and four hundred thousand.
Within the new fortress and the old fortress, how many men are alive?
Southern trees bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Poem of the Nile
Walls climb the ivy
And Khartoum, poised on its unamputated foot
Will the Nile ever escape into sleep?
We were the most loving of lovers, children trickling from us
What name do you give me?
I call you Presence of Earth
Come closer then
What will be the taste of grief?
In Dwimordene, in Lorien
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light,
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel! Continue reading