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As a symbol of the past—all sadness and humility—my mother’s face swims up and rises before my eyes. Her eyes two black abysses, anguish peering from them; her lips moist and rosy, a smile always…
A. O my sisters! O my daughters! O women, my people and pride! Hear my words, understand my musings, consider my way, for I am your brother. I have gathered for you beautiful words, chosen from the…