The darkness descends but we burn our lights
To stave off the sorrowful swallowing night
Our lights only penetrate a miniscule of gloom
A fraction of the blackness that has the earth entombed
We know that if we hold hands and pray
That we will be granted another day
When night's enshrouding work is done
Dispersed by the coming up of the sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem