Gather wood, build the bonfire high
I will give myself
only in bright light
Midnight. You are not here--
these blankets burn me like fire
All night
like a bell and with jewels
I chimed in your arms
Never fall asleep beside my body
I belong to those
who keep vigil over me
If I strangle that rooster
will you lie longer
in my arms
--Pashto landays, versions by Laura Sheahen
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
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