I'm sorry Ma, I've got to go
Lord Kitchener says he needs me so...
I'm not the bravest or so bold
But a safe long life just turns me cold
I'm sorry Ma. I'm eighteen now...
I'll learn to fight, they'll teach me how
You'll be so proud of me one day
Watch out you Bosch, I'm on my way!
I'm sorry ma, my duty's clear...
If I should fall, don't cry, or shed a tear
Just tell 'em I was proud to serve
I saw it through and held my nerve
I'm sorry Ma. My ink's run out...
We leave for France tomorrow night
Our Captain says, would you believe
We'll all be home by Christmas Eve
***
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem