We Must Look

Behind the dirt Sprawled before us Behind narrow eyes And faces of fat Beyond those hands Opened or closed That strain in vain Nor raise thier fists Further than frontiers That barb our path Further than misery We must look We must look at What is beauty The grey sky or blue The women by the stream The faithful friend Tomorrow's sun The fly to the swallow The boat that returns The faithful friend Tomorrow's sun The fly to the swallow The boat that returns Beyond the concert Of sobbs and tears Of cries of anger Of men in fear