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MakhteshRamon_Moonscape.JPG

The seeing ; how bored one is by the land,
Where called our mothers and fathers,
Our brothers and sisters before they went forward,
Passed away, or disappeared without even passing.

Instead ; expect a vast plain. The city is useless,
And who can wait for the boomerang to return,
Can also consider how useless the weapons,
This age ; one moves in lockstep with midgets.

It killed the quarry. It lays in the land next to
The stunned carcass. Now ; starts a quest
Outside the previously known. We can tell
Where the sun was, which king we owned.

Let us brace ourselves for happiness,
A dawn to the noon, and a song ; the morrow.
We’ll empty our screens, and put traffic signs in place.
The birth day is in fire, the land is bigger than the city.

So don’t feed us with a dirty hand,
Don’t give us love when we plead,
Don’t be sad. Yes. Most of all, don’t be sad,
Because it never mattered who would arrive.

Image credit : Makhtesh Ramon crater, Israel — by jpatokal

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