Come, brother,
Put your hand
In my hand.
Why do you
Despise me,
As if
I am made
Of mud,
And you
Are made
Of light?
Is it because
My color
Is diffrent
From yours?
Or because
You are rich,
And I am poor?
Dwell not
Outside
The abode
Of truth.
Look into
My heart,
And my mind.
Let us add
A drop
Of love
Into the river
Of life,
Plant a flower
On the mountain,
Grow a grain
Of wheat
In the Sahara.
For despite
The difference
In color,
And wealth,
We are both
Made of mud.
Your blood
Runs in me,
And my blood
Runs in you.
Come, brother,
Put your hand
In my hand.
Let us make
Our life
As beautiful
As paradise.