We are going to dig to bury our dead:
Mother, father, sisters and brothers,
Uncles, aunts, friends and strangers.
We are going to inter our dead:
Archbishop, pastors, Houngans and vicars.
The altar boys in a row are profusely bleeding.
The cracked crucifixes are lying on the benches.
They weep, suffer and are all almost naked.
Oh! They breathe like humans in agony;
Things,...
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