There had been stones under our feet,
And broken glass along our way;
There had been hurt, disappointement,
Loneliness, anger and despair;
As we grew old,
We learnt to fight,
We were hateful,
Felt powerless.
Angels spoke up,
Whispered gently;
Soothering us,
Calling back Home.
And then our hate turned into tears,
Our certainty into questions;
We let hearts bleed, and mourned with them;
And so the sky opened up wide,
And its stars shine answered our fears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem