Lord, I give the hoe back
I give back the dust wherefrom
I’ll be reincarnated, I give back
the worn bones, I leave the poverty
to my children, I sleep, then I come
back to spade the garden. Lord,
don’t judge me as a sinner, forgive me
for being born a perverted Wallachian
and I’m in a tight corner, as a man
whom the poverty defeated.
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