A group of people get inside the bus,
Comes down from the bus.
They are about fifteen, with digging hoe, in hand.
The black people of village.
They are going to work, in row.
They are labour,
Mixed with soil, sweat and salt.
I can recognize their sweat and salt,
Sweat and salt of hard worker man.
I can hear their heart beat,
The heart beats of most ordinary man.
They made strong the axe of man,
With their blood.
They are man.
They enrich the moving history,
The evolutionary history of man.
They are man.
They are labour.
They are walking in row,
With digging hoe in hand.
I feel united with them.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Владимир Степанов – Волнушки
- Lines on the Fall of Fyers by Robert Burns
- The Tree Of Knowledge
- The Cactus Thicket
- Last Words poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Poetry and the Power of Words
- John Barleycorn: A Ballad by Robert Burns
- Advent by Patrick Kavanagh
- Альфред де Мюссе – Песнь барберины
- Алексей Жемчужников – Земля
- Contraptions by Satish Verma
- Angel Of Christmas Love Shining Bright
- Владимир Британишский – Баня Быстрицкого
- A Shropshire Lad poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Man Into Whose Yard You Should Not Hit Your Ball by Thomas Lux
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
