87. Tears
Cry, my beloved, cry out
and let the world be cleansed in thy tears,
let the dirt wash out from the sewer cities
and let mankind be purged from her crimes.
What is all mankind's wealth and riches
to a woman's tears of compassion and pity?
All might loses its right and gets lost in its vanity
when the world is washed out by the motherly tears,
the greatest force on earth, since it is so natural
and gushes forth from the purest of purities,
the flow of emotions from the heart of the soul.
A man who cannot cry is a waste and doomed
worthless, since he cannot make his emotions work,
the only human force equivalent to any force of nature.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-27 at 20:02
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