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| | Search for "Dinka Tribe" provided by Poetry Connection |
 | | The Elders of the Tribe were grouped And squatted in the Council Cave; They seemed to be extremely pooped, And some were grim, but all were grave: The subject of their big To-do Was axe-man Chow, the son of Choo. |
 | | When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes, And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes, Stripped of its secret, open, stark and... |
 | | The prophetic tribe of the ardent eyes Yesterday they took the road, holding their babies On their backs, delivering to fierce appetites The always ready treasure of pendulous breasts. |
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