Rain or shine,
Their labours always outshine
More than our cozy rooms and revolving chairs,
More than all our ivory towers and peers.
Remember, for every penny that we earn,
To them, our life we really own.
Part of our wealth, if it doesn't to them recycle,
No Lord will ever listen to our hymns and supreme calls.
08th December 2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem