Another round I'll call - will be the last,
Another day behind, another past;
And now ahead to rest, the night to sleep,
And wake at dawn, for friends to find and keep;
And know that better times cannot be far,
As long as men can find and fill a jar;
Another round o' brew, without nay fuss,
To share between the likes o' such as us,
Both sons of fate an' fathers of it too,
Be North or South, you know what we can do -
We can be friends, an' 'elp each other home;
For all roads lead to bed - and not to Rome!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem