Orphans

I now describe my country As if to strangers This train is full of songs Of local winners And the wind surrounds the towers And the flags they are blowing And the bunting and the distance Stretches over our sound And when he teases the children He calls them orphans And he cries for all the flowers Of the forest In his head there is no reason To be sad about the garden But his heart bleeds very often For things forgotten like little orphans