He held high his gong
to keep the burdened souls
floating on the sea of life
Played hard to keep awake
our sleeping heroes.
On the eve of victorious and
vibrant days of struggle;
Nerves of warriors tremble,
mirrors of minds reflect
on past path of existence.
Legend reign of harmony
and abundance of things.
The vibrant and seasoned
strength of honest voices
lost in memorable years of
the past.
On the eve of our crisis the
devouring palms of heroes
lost grip of drum sticks,
entrusted their drums to the
dusk of time.
I hope that echoes
of our drums never fade.
We are called to rise.
To uphold the dignity of our past,
build on strength of honesty and
faith in mankind.
To keep alive the vibrant echoes
of our legend drums.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem