<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=490195" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES by carlos bulosan</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Homeward again under foreign stars, <br>history was a strange gush of wind from memory<br>that came to echo waterfalls of those years: <br>home to find the place lost among<br>galaxies of signs. The hills were gone. The river<br>trail was forgotten... Trying to remember meadowlark<br>and those who perished in the vanishing land<br>(bones in the earth where our parents died poor) , <br>the journey fell into heavy tides of flowing<br>scorn that echoed and reechoed time there.<br> <br>The sun was most unkind to the place: <br>history: names of men: patterns of life: <br>all that distant floodtide heaved and moved, <br>breaking familiar names that immortal tongues<br>clipped for the heart to cry, 'Home is a foreign address, <br>every step toward it is a step toward three hundred years<br>of exile from the truth...'<br> It was not homeward<br>to the first known land, nor escape<br>to white sea sprays blossoming on inland shore, <br>nor love leaping the boundaries naked in the soul, <br>but a vast heritage of war and destruction breaking<br>too soon for the living and willing to die.<br> <br>Life is a foreign language. Every man mispronounced it...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=490195" data-title="LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES by carlos bulosan de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="Homeward again under foreign stars, history was a strange gush of wind from memory that came to echo waterfalls of those years: home to find the place lost among galaxies of signs. The hills were gone. The river trail was forgotten... Trying to ..."></div> </div> </div>

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