Yo soy el hombre sin rumbo, el hombre en las tinieblas
de los días y las noches . . . aimless and uprooted,
the way a porpoise frolics on the crest of the waves
move forcibly from a homeland into a new foreign environment
Yo soy el hombre sin rumbo, el hombre en las tinieblas
de los días y las noches . . . aimless and uprooted,
the way a porpoise frolics on the crest of the waves
Yo soy el hombre sin rumbo, el hombre en las tinieblas
de los días y las noches . . . aimless and uprooted,
the way a porpoise frolics on the crest of the waves
Yo soy el hombre sin rumbo, el hombre en las tinieblas
de los días y las noches . . . aimless and uprooted,
the way a porpoise frolics on the crest of the waves
rise upward under the influence of a force such as a wave
In this island of all things
broken, shifted, he isn’t the only one damaged by history,
by the way storms surge and ravage, uprooted royal
palms everywhere, roof shingles like buried hands,
so red, so blue, to call this man a beast you must bow.
broken, shifted, he isn’t the only one damaged by history,
by the way storms surge and ravage, uprooted royal
palms everywhere, roof shingles like buried hands,
so red, so blue, to call this man a beast you must bow.
broken, shifted, he isn’t the only one damaged by history,
by the way storms surge and ravage, uprooted royal
palms everywhere, roof shingles like buried hands,
so red, so blue, to call this man a beast you must bow.
Created on Thu Jul 12 15:43:47 EDT 2018
(updated Thu Jul 12 15:58:55 EDT 2018)
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