Time came when burlap and coarse cloth
had been trod down into dark mud
so deep, so dark, so hopeless then
it seemed to vanish into peat
Yet as with fires beneath the ground
they smolder, spreading till one day
a great eruption bursts the seams
and all old wounds are brought to light
Thus was the scene in France that hour
when everything seemed lost and torn
then did the Bastile brick by brick
become a symbol of that schist
The feudal fabric that was France
was stomped by dreams and hands of men
as spirit vanquished privilege
and hopes of mankind's freedom soared
But that was oh, so long ago
yet I must keep my soul on fire
attentive to attempts to squelch
my hopes, my dreams, my freedom's gifts
Time came when burlap and coarse cloth
had been trod down into deep mud
so deep, so dark, so hopeless then
it seemed to turn to bog and peat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Spirit vanquished privilege', wonderful!