May 17, 1992. Thousands of people convened here,
Mutually demanding for Democracy.
I can't help feeling both joy and awe,
Perceiving the power of their unselfish desire.
Then I startled at the gun's sounding from the
Ratchadamnern Avenue.
I saw those people flee, running for shelter but found not.
Boys and girls fell, shocked, wounded, and killed.
Some bullets even entered into my trunk, severed my branches,
Shook down my leaves that fell to rest in pools of blood.
Pure blood of these fallen seeped down through parched soil.
Enlivening my root and rootlets.
Surely with nourishment from their devoted blood,
I shall become stronger and branch out again.
To stand firmly with those people and shelter them in the next fight.
From "Lyric of Art" By Pratuang Emjaroen 1992
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