By patti smith      I don't know why I feel this way today   The sky is blue the table is laid   The trees are heavy with yellow fruit   And in their shade children happily play      The pears have fallen to the ground   My child places one in my hand   The sun is warm upon my face   And I dream of a burning land      Mother of famine take this pear   Upon an arrow through the rings of time   This small fruit this golden prayer   May it pass from this hand to thine      If I were rain I'd rain on somalia   If I were grain for somalia I'd grow   If I were bread I would rise for somalia   If I were a river for somalia I'd flow      All the mothers will dream of thee   All the mothers bless thy empty hand   All the mothers will grieve for thee   All the sorrow a mother can stand      If we were rain we would rain on somalia   If we were grain for somalia we'd grow   If we were bread we would rise for somalia   If we were a river for somalia we'd flow