A Cue From Ancients of Days
Look up to the sky
take a look at the boldness of the sun
behold the brightness of the stars
they hold no grudges
they come, they shine
for you, for me:
caucasian, black or orientals
Look up at the sky
See the beauty of the moon
it illuminates prison as well palace
they no know boundary nor landmark
hear the rhytm of the rains
it beats the ghetto and the golden city
see its water flows
linking the mosques and the churches
they hold no sentiments nor bias
then look at yourself
and I myself
and together ourselves
and take a cue from
the ancients of days.
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