Then we will confess that not the Pyramids When land mines of death have been removedĪnd the aged can walk into evenings of peaceĪnd childhood dreams are not kicked awake When we let the rifles fall from our shouldersĪnd children dress their dolls in flags of truce The screaming racket in the temples have ceased When the rapacious storming of the churches To lie in identical plots in foreign soil No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hateĪnd faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean It is possible and imperative that we learn Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
You can also read it yourself in the following lines.
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