by Patti Smith



I don't know why I feel this way today 

The sky is blue the table is laid 

The trees are heavy with yellow fruit 

And in their shade children happily play 



The pears have fallen to the ground 

My child places one in my hand 

The sun is warm upon my face 

And I dream of a burning land 



Mother of famine take this pear 

Upon an arrow through the rings of time 

This small fruit this golden prayer 

May it pass from this hand to thine 



If I were rain I'd rain on Somalia 

If I were grain for Somalia I'd grow 

If I were bread I would rise for Somalia 

If I were a river for Somalia I'd flow 



All the mothers will dream of thee 

All the mothers bless thy empty hand 

All the mothers will grieve for thee 

All the sorrow a mother can stand 



If we were rain we would rain on Somalia 

If we were grain for Somalia we'd grow 

If we were bread we would rise for Somalia 

If we were a river for Somalia we'd flow