Poetry meme

[djehutydjesi]

By Galaktion Tabidze

Fatherland

Without walking barefoot on dewy grass
How would I know my fatherland? I ask.
All of the ancestors have now gone from here,
and only joyous strangers' voices left to hear.

A slow and silent breeze moves through the meadow,
within the breeze, I see the ghost-- an old man's shadow;
My father, with a pruning knife
is walking

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