By Adam Neal

(Inspired by Pearl S. Buck’s book of the same title)

Oh, the good earth,

The earth that sustains all.

From the time of birth,

And the harvests at fall.

It brings us life and power,

So we fall to our knees in prayer.

We would die if the soil went sour,

To curse the land we not dare.

For if a curse comes from our lips,

We will have had our last days.

So we turn the mighty earth in great flips,

We work and work but do not complain of missed play.

Though our bodies may live and die,

The land time will spare.

As I look onto the land, I feel I’ll cry,

For the land shall always be there.

Silver may come and go,

But our land is worth far more.

The river by the land feeds it by its flow,

Our great harvests we keep in store.

And my body will age and die,

I then will return to the ground.

As I look at my land I sigh,

Seeing my harvest in one great mound.

Oh, the good earth…

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