man has been

corrupted by his

dollar he no

longer finds pleasure

in simple tasks

he does not

frolic in sea

he does not

sit around fire

to tell stories

no longer does

man walk barefoot

to feel joy

of earth under

his feet or

watch splendour of

sunrise darling bring

me those who

engage in conversation

about their cattle

or show me

women who will

carry bucket on

their head to

fetch water from

stream bring me

those who bathe

under moon and

stars rejoicing in

song of nightingale

Head-of-a-Woman-with-her-Hair-Loose

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