Margaret L. Armstrong - Roots lyrics
in Roots Chap. 2 p.6 As they neared the Marshy Faros where generations of Juffure women had grown their rice crops, the canoes pa**ed through swarming clouds of mosquitoes and then, one after another,nosed in against a walkway of thicky matted weeds. The Marshy Faros are: soft, wet, bogy, bog, swamp area.