Fair ye ageless winds
blow on this fateful morn.
And most exalted heaven,
my efforts do not scorn.
I face my foes alone,
my friends have all turned back.
I fear not pain nor death
although my enemies attack.
Oh blessed Lord and Saviour,
thine eyes on me do turn.
Grant me strength and fortitude
and victory may I earn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem