with the twists and
turns of all events
one thing is sure, oh,
you may not believe
this, agnostic soul,
doubting philosopher,
you may insist that it
is not real, but this
i must tell you,
it is the good that
triumphs at the end.
it is the truth, it
is the beauty of it all,
that comes at the end
of this darkest tunnel.
did not mama tell us
that how long and how far
this procession of sorrow
is going,
it always comes back home
to the house of
our redemption?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem