Comrade:   Everything's set for your coming, and after the collective's welcome   we may be alone together to celebrate a twilight ritual.   The people permit oneness of ourselves in their organized mountains.   So come.   I have chosen to borrow a poor peasant's abung on a high plateau   of old storied payaos translating the red consciousness of the sky.   We will lay down our firearms, for comrades guard against intruders.   Silenced for the hour shall be the augurers' clannic incantations.   As you light up the hearth, in the ebony glow, on a floor of reeds   shall I prepare the sculptured datoc, the coco-shell cup and Ming wine jar.   We shall drink of the boundless power and tenderness of the land   that has risen in anger against the imperialists and their allies.   Then shall I offer you long and green sugar cane leaves for you to tie   into the knot of prosperity and unity in the protracted struggle, while   outside flap the wings of the grey doves of Uhaj.