ENULABI At the graveside where young mother sleeps, Where both parents’ earth still freshly weeps, They come with words like woven gold, “Come to the city, leave this cold. We’ll give you life, we’ll give you light...



ENULABI At the graveside where young mother sleeps, Where both parents’ earth still freshly weeps, They come with words like woven gold, “Come to the city, leave this cold. We’ll give you life, we’ll give you light...