I begun my journey
with many along
we rowed through the storm
Never did we stop
no fear of men, sea or death
we held hands
and walked past the hell
as waters grew
the disaster became loud
and to my men, I said
look upon the sea as a friend
row through the deep
and shallow shall follow
there's still room left for hope
We rode miles
tears dropped to hear a friend die
but through the storm
rode the 400
on the battle field
we reached then
left just a 100
and again we rode on a journey new
with 300 corpses along
rode the ultimate 100
and back on our mother land
after killing the foes
we returned in pride
and remember my men
through all the pages of life
together rode the ultimate 100
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem