Weaver by the riverside
Now washing dirty linen!
Oh! What has become of you!
Pleased with filth and Dirt
As it emanates from another mans loin cloth
What kind of rancid solace is this?
Colorful yarns! You once wove
Of emerald green and purple!
Shiny silk and soft white cotton
Where has all your fine cloth gone?
Wasting away your skillful hands
To Washing by riverside
Oh lonesome weaver!
Your loom beckons thee!
No comments:
Post a Comment