And whilst beneath my endless thought,
Abound therein my pain I sought
That life will not defeat its cloud
And lo her foe will squeal aloud
And then will evil hence prevail
And watch her snare in stormless sail
So what we here the innocent?
To lie and watch our pathway bent?
For we are but a softened clay
That nature moulds to have its way
And only that we have to pray,
Be victims not of circumstance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is so eloquently written. It is a 10+ in my judgment. It is like reading a poem from a classical poet. The words are so true and your style shines.