石基連詩集
by Raymonde Sacklyn
Comes The Wind
The winds of past years
Have blown and blown.
Having completed their tasks,
They quickly cease to exist.
One forgets:
As quickly as youth fades;
As quickly as love dies;
As quickly as hatred ferments;
As quickly as intolerance harbours;
As quickly as denials …
Until, new winds blow,
Then, the events of yesteryear
Are fast recalled:
The horrors reappear.
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