The years the poetry died Strong men wept and cried. In the days before the blight We heard songs singing within Poets wandered from town to town Telling of the wonders they had seen But now it is all gone. The years the poetry died Strong men wept and cried. Ships leave for foreign shores Filled to the gunwales with wretches Who know there must be more Than the hunger and disease and pain Of deadly famine. The years the poetry died Strong wept and cried. Far far away let the bards now fly over the mountainous waves of sea to other lands not quite so green Let them wander the lanes again Searching out their song. The years the poetry died Strong men wept and cried. Let the birds call a different tune The sun give another kind of light The winds whistle in tall upright trees And the moon glow over the growth In another land. The years the poetry died Strong men wept and cried. Here there is only bleak despair Starved victims of the landlords Bent on preserving the rotten harvest Of their indecision. Let your colours fly Poets all over the known earth.Birth sign: Pisces
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