Life of a Village – Remembering the Dead
The mornings I bear are not thirsty yet; and the morning light still lets the bed of grass wake with joy. Wake up! Wake up! Ye slumbering trees slept with courage that no man will lay an axe on your arms.
The mornings I bear are not thirsty yet; and the morning light still lets the bed of grass wake with joy. Wake up! Wake up! Ye slumbering trees slept with courage that no man will lay an axe on your arms.