I now

Describe my country

As if to strangers

This train

Is full of songs

Of local winners

And the wind

Surrounds the towers

And the flags

They are blowing

And the bunting

And the distance

Stretches over

Our sound



And when he teases

The children

He calls them orphans

And he cries

For all the flowers

Of the forest

In his head

There is no reason

To be sad

About the garden

But his heart

Bleeds very often

For things forgotten

Like little orphans

Little orphans