Strong men are weeping Weeping softly at twilight The sound rises with the Smoke of cook fires The city trembles in the Evening light for As the face of the sun has left the sky The voice of justice has fallen silent in the gate A child has taken his place From the top of the wall a child lifts its voice From the gate there is no answer The eminent men are silent The landowners examine Hastily written contracts in the Weak light of a single lamp Strong men selling their inheritance For doubtful promises of safety And the seats in the gate are empty