’Burried In This Earth

The smell of houses, still burning--

Broken bricks and scorched wooden boards are clumsily scattered,

Pushing aside the soil of dark earth
Where horrible bullets showered like pelting rains,
Every man was looking for something
That was left, not burned yet,
The thing that was left not burned yet.

The thing burried in this earth
Was expected to bloom once more,

It may well be a dream,
Or something
That was sowed in the name of hope.
The will anxious to dig out
Something burried in this earth.

That only, that only
Is the thing at last that is left among us.’

--Zông-on Bag, ibid

Just to lighten things up--the Thai Elephant Orchestra.