January 12, 2017 BY ELIZABETH A. KAINE
Oh my creator
Have mercy on our land
When will the toil of the day begun
That your people may weep no more
How long will this last!
Before our liberty
A year has passed by
But yet it seems like yesterday
Oh my land!
If we cry toughly of our torments
What heart will listen to our clumsy voices?
Sad complaining voices of beggars
How can the sons of the soil that are born of this land
Sit in a cage and sing
Our children have been polluted
Who see nothing of what they have made