The river is moving. 

Under the smoke, dust all over my mouth, laughing with white teeth,

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear.

The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place,

I do not know which to prefer…

Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again,

Just like moons and like suns.

 

I am of the foolish as much as the wise,

I know noble accents and lucid, inescapable rhythms.

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them: a savage pitted against the wilderness;

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion,

A man and a woman,

Bragging and laughing that under this wrist is the pulse, under these ribs the heart of the people,

Did you  want   to    see     me      b r o k e n?