Drummings on an Empty Skull
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Drummings on an Empty Skull
Meeting his death in Egypt
Laid on the brow of Judah,
Lion of all the earth:
“Nations shall bow before thee,
“All of thy brothers shall praise thee,
“Fruit on thy boughs shall blossom,
“Tribes from thy loins have birth.”
Tell of a thin limbed people,
Crowded into their hovels,
Rats who blink at the sun—
Where is thy heritage, Judah?
Lost in the mists of ages.
These are a bastard motley,
Ghosts of a race long run.
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