Christmas comes again once more,
The year turns like it has before.
I whisper prayers for swifter days,
That sorrow's fire may lose its blaze.
For long it's been this heavy way
Each time the season nears its day—
A weight upon my weary chest,
A quiet ache I can't arrest.
I thought by now I'd learn to bear,
That grief would fade into the air.
That tears would dry, my heart grow strong,
Yet still they stay, they linger long.
Perhaps it's hope that keeps me still,
Through winter's cold and winter's chill—
That one bright Christmas yet will rise
With joy that warms the darkest skies.
So let the bells ring soft and clear,
Let candlelight draw heaven near;
For even in my longest night,
I wait for joy and pure delight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem