The White Mans Burden

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    <strong>The White Mans Burden</strong>

    Lost in the forest, I br<var></var>oke off a dark twig

    and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:

    maybe it was the voice of the rain g,

    a cracked bell, or a tor.

    Something from far off it seemed

    deep a to me, hidden by the earth,

    a shout muffled by huge autumns,

    by the moist half-open dark９９ｌiｂ?ness of the leaves.

    Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-s<u></u>prig

    sang under my tos drifting fragrance

    climbed up through my <bdo></bdo>sind

    as if suddenly the roots I had left behind

    cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood---

    and I stopped, wounded by the wandering st

    <strong>Pablo Neruda</strong>

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