If we had our country

To mold in our hands

So that this soft clay could shape the face
And heart of freedom

Each toll on love

Each tick of distance

Could be some blessing

For I would have

The rare fortunes of a bird

After every mission abroad

All encounters with foreigners
Would reinforce the reason
Turning the strange into loveliness
The urgent to certainty

Of reunion more desirable

For like the birds

Nightfall would kindly lead

To favored nests

To recount encounters

Hatch new flights

Till together we can soar

To heights where such long-distance throbs
Which may pulse pain

Are ever foreign

Being alone will be forever alien.