The Earth Turns South/O Dear Brown Lands
VIII.
O Dear Brown Lands
O dear brown lands, out of you I blossomed.
I feed on your rooted and wandering fruits;
And when my puzzled restlessness is done,
You clasp me again,
Scattering me over your brown bosom. . . .
My mother, my sustainer, my children,
And my dusty immortality.
I feed on your rooted and wandering fruits;
And when my puzzled restlessness is done,
You clasp me again,
Scattering me over your brown bosom. . . .
My mother, my sustainer, my children,
And my dusty immortality.