When rowan leaves are dank and rusting And rowan berries red as blood, When in my palm the hangman's thrusting The final nail with bony thud, When, over the foul flooding river, Upon the wet grey height, I toss Before my land's grim looks, and shiver As I swing here upon the cross, Then, through the blood and weeping, stretches My dying sight to space remote; I see upon the river’s reaches Christ sailing to me in a boat.
The world's got a nosebleed, it saidAnd we're flooding, but we keep on cutting the trees and the forests!And we keep on paying those freaks on the TVWho claim they will save us, but want to enslave us, andSweating like demons, they scream through our speakersBut we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder, andNo one's the killer and no one's the martyrThe world that has made us can no longer contain usAnd prophets are silent and rotting away.regina spektor
For while the tired waves vainly breaking Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.arthur hugh clough
Episodic flooding in Panaji even during low tides is directly linked to rapid urbanization and consequent damage to existing drainage systems.Nandkumar Kamat
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