The blue violet its mouth opens
As if with hunger desperate
In mid-desert pining, pining, pining
Or like a wounded soldier as he lies
On the blood-soaking earth and from his mouth
A tall thin pencil of red comes out:
So am I now like the blue violet
I lie in desperation hit to ground
And wish for the dews of Dawn
To quench my thirst.
Emmanuel George Cefai
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blue-violet-its-mouth-opens/
