A Lando
From southward comes the moon: bright yellow, desert-scented
From southward comes the moon: bright yellow, desert-scented
Hanging low above the plain brilliant, unornamented.
There are those who live their lives without examination
There are those who live their lives without examination
Who would cause each wound again, no thought nor hesitation
My skin sand-scraped and burned, sharp thorns that pierce my fingers
My skin sand-scraped and burned, sharp thorns that pierce my fingers
In my hair a scent of smoke and creosote it lingers
Song comes from the desert trees, orange feathers, wings of ebon
Sweet song comes from desert trees, orange feathers, wings of ebon
Sing a melancholy tune, a remembered tropic heaven.
In this life so labored brief every pleasure has its cost
In this life so labored brief every pleasure has its cost
Every promontory gained is another one you’ve lost
Moon that floods the land with light, come and wash this desert clean
Moon that floods the land with light, come and wash this desert clean
Bathe the wretched and the pure, and those of us in between.
Comments
Is this a desert blues?
Kind of! It’s an attempt at using the Peruvian Landσ as a literary form. It shares both the call-and-response form, and African origins, with the blues though the blues comes more from West Africa and the Landσ from the Angolan Lundu.
Here’s an example of the full-fledged musical version. The call-and-response part starts at about forty-five seconds in.
That’s beautiful.
Yes, very nice. It’s very musical even without accompaniment.
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