Oh tired eyes, blink again;
The rest you require,
Will not long be found,
Yet without your sight all is lost.
Oh stiffened legs, one more step;
The distance behind you,
Still not nearly enough,
Without you, I'd not make it home.
Oh parched mouth, drink a drop;
Though no words need be spoken,
For no soul here to engage,
My own voice may yet bring me calm.
Oh broken heart, beat strong;
You may miss them, it's true,
But to lose hope is to die,
They need us returned dear friend.
Oh weary trail, I forge ahead;
This loneliness you provide,
Baron and lifeless at times,
Will not a coward make of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem