a beautiful princess
silent
on the slopes
friendly
to the clouds
faithful
to the sun
and ally
of the
full moon
and
playmate
of the stars
on her feet
run the
cool rivers
on her
bosom
the orchids
and the
trees
once, twice
thrice
how did we
really know
but we know
she one day
will turn
into a witch
spitting fire
and molten
rocks
sinking islands
and killing thousands
or even millions
mute and stiff and dead
burned alive, charred
that even history
has no braver memory
Poem by Antonio Liao
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