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The people had wept over the murders, corruption and the terrible desolation.

Some wished that their eyes were a fountain of tears that they might weep day and night for the slain of their compatriots, brothers and sisters.

The day is near, when looking across the valleys at the hills and with joy, brighten eye, seeing in pleasing perspective the Best of Antilles.

Hearing no more the voice of mothers and children crying for bread in or out the city. Looking down the ages, the Masses scattered in every city

Charlot Charlemagne, June 17 2010, 6:25 AM

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