There where the pennyroyal sprouted and wild mint and the earth sent forth the first of her cyclamen now villagers haggle for cement and birds fall dead into the kiln.
Sleep in the earth's embrace,
Persephone,
and never retrace
your way to the world’s balcony.
There where the initiates joined hands devoutly before entering the sanctuary now tourists toss their cigarette ends and they go to see the brand new refinery.
Sleep in the earth's embrace,
Persephone,
and never retrace
your way to the world’s balcony.
There where the sea became a blessing and a benediction was in the rustic sheep’s bleat, now to the shipyards trucks are hauling empty shapes iron children and metal plate.
Sleep in the earth's embrace,
Persephone,
and never retrace
your way to the world’s balcony.
Clayton Lehmann, University of South Dakota, United States