A SEQUENCE FOR IRAQ
Sicut leo in silva
As the lion is lost in
the dandelions are bright on the bank;
he is the trees and the spaces between
where the sunlight falls on his flank
he is the colour of last year's leaves.
The dandelions dance
with the lambs
and the grass is glossy and green,
but the lion is parched in the desert,
he has lost himself in the desert,
his pelt is the colour of sand.
At the hour when darkness
the desert is a forest of crosses,
the lion dies with the lambs;
though the dandelions are bright in the fields,
the lambs are butchered and lost.
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