XVI.
I am black, I am black! I wore a child upon my breast, An amulet that hung too slack, And, in my unrest, could not rest: Thus we went moaning, child and mother, One to another, one to another, Until all ended for the best.
I am black, I am black! I wore a child upon my breast, An amulet that hung too slack, And, in my unrest, could not rest: Thus we went moaning, child and mother, One to another, one to another, Until all ended for the best.