O’er this land I roam
Eternally through sorrow
Escaping thy ‘morrow
Seeking thine home
Pocketed tools, head hung low
Stones kicked roll swift
They flee thee as on I go, bereft
Woeful and yes full brimmed regret
Tears nay neither sweat nor dew
I would shed existence for you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem