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About This Poem
The Wooden Flute Sings
From the mountain's peak, the wooden flute sounds
the lamas leap and the water falls clear
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground
The majesty of the Andes astounds
for from behind the clouds, the peaks reappear.
From the mountain's peak, the wooden flute sounds
Like great red-clay dunes or snow capped mounds
courts rise and fall in terrain, so austere
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground
Rainbows of red, blue, and gold oft surround
distant ruins of gray stones now severe.
From the mountain's peak, the wooden flute sounds
Solid, earth-bound, sun-browned, lost to the hounds
so Quechua shepherds bound stairs cavalier
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground
Pachamama's love surrounds without bounds
long gone are the conquer's all life is here,
from the mountain's peak, the wooden flute sounds
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground.
* Quechua is one of the native people of Peru
**The Dominican Monks set hounds trained to kill
on the natives who refused conversion.
*** Pachamama, fertility Godess in Incas Mythos
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