You dressed me in silk,
Crowned me with gold.
But I fled to the desert,
Where the nights grow cold.
You gave me a palace,
Filled with thousands of halls.
But I chose a home,
Made out of straw.
The foundation too weak,
And storms too strong.
Winds of my emotion,
Scattered it all.
Now lost in this place,
Without food, without water.
I long for my home,
I long for my Father.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This us a very strong first poem. I would have ended the third stanza withscattered all all along only to rhyme with the strong that ends the second line. Otherwise a very good poem.