I see their eyes, and hear their cries
It breaks my aching heart
I hear their pleas, by right decrees
They are not a race apart
They need our help, yet ask it not
The creeping cold will kill
They huddle round their camp fires
While frostbite steals their will
Natures might will break them
It's taken all their homes
Bereft of all the basics
To be reduced to skin and bones
All the nations, should now combine
To halt this creeping death
With food and clothes, and foreign aid
To release them from distress
The western world and leaders
Should get their act together
We have the wealth, to restore their health
Even if we cannot stop the weather.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My sentiments exactly. (10) . Lizzy.