Читать книгу Word Simple - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 9

they read the English clocks made

in China, always go to work on time,

play the lottery for a big hit, never complain

of a thing, walk the unknown streets, send their

kids to schools offering books with a hundred pages

missing, bury their dead in cheap wood with grief

fixed to their wrinkled faces, breathe the angry air

telling them how to misspell their names, live to

see poverty abounding from generation to the

next, know hunger, illness, fatigue, work that keeps

them close to death, and listen to the devilish cries

of hate that surrounds them in a forgotten place so

carefully slighted by all your Gods. they lean into

the light of day, stand in the quiet of night, kneel

in prayer in sparsely furnished rooms, talk

with ghostly listeners, and wait for an answer to

their cries from a world unwilling to deliver even

a hint of slanting light. when the children ask what

dreams will come for them, what will you whisper

into their beautiful innocent ears?