| Hint | Answer | % Correct |
|---|---|---|
| SPACE | 1 | 100%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 100%
|
| but my memory of it is sunlight-clear | 100%
| |
| It may by now be a lie, banned by the state | 100%
| |
| There once was a country... I left it as a child | 100%
| |
| and my shadow falls as evidence of sunlight. | 0%
| |
| and the frontiers rise between us, close like waves. | 0%
| |
| but I am branded by an impression of sunlight. | 0%
| |
| but I can't get it off my tongue. It tastes like sunlight. | 0%
| |
| but my city comes to me in its own white plane. | 0%
| |
| for it seems I never saw it in that November | 0%
| |
| glow even clearer as time rolls its tanks | 0%
| |
| I comb its hair and love its shining eyes. | 0%
| |
| I have no passport, there's no way back at all | 0%
| |
| It lies down in front of me, docile as paper; | 0%
| |
| It may be at war, it may be sick with tyrants, | 0%
| |
| like a hollow doll, opens and spills a grammar. | 0%
| |
| My city hides behind me. They mutter death, | 0%
| |
| My city takes me dancing through the city | 0%
| |
| my original view, the bright, filled paperweight. | 0%
| |
| of walls. They accuse me of absence, they circle me. | 0%
| |
| Soon I shall have every coloured molecule of it. | 0%
| |
| That child's vocabulary I carried here | 0%
| |
| The white streets of that city, the graceful slopes | 0%
| |
| The worst news I receive of it cannot break | 0%
| |
| They accuse me of being dark in their free city. | 0%
| |
| which, I am told, comes to the mildest city. | 0%
|