SONG FOR SELF-PITY

So, did injustice strike? Then let me singone hymn, a hundred hymns, until the stingof its hornet-thrust dissolves, passedfrom thought like frost from midday meadow grass.

Let me sing hymns until my healed heart knowshow fleet despair's dark dream, how hatred's snowsfail to block one crocus, come love's spring—blitzkrieged faith replies by blossoming!

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Editorial
Independence
June 29, 1963
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