How long, dear God, do I great troubles meet?
My lamentation seems to go a waste;
A thing I do turns Herculean a feat;
As precious time is lost, I am in haste.
Life’s vagaries are too cruel to me;
An easy task looks up-hill climb at times;
Dear God, you must remove my malady;
How long can I further my art in Rhymes?
So, have I reached my tolerance’s peak?
I feel my strength and will are failing too;
My heart and mind appear now rather weak;
‘Oh, come and help me win the war, ’ please do.
Will spring not come to ease Life’s winter long?
Won’t my refrain become a happy song?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-12-2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem