I think and then I fall inside,
Crawl deeper into my hands,
And long for another voice,
To speak and raise within,
A spectre of lost pride;
But a deeper craving still,
For warm and stranger sand,
A new and brighter choice,
For family or kindly kin,
An iron will not denied.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
For warm and stranger sand. I like that a lot. Nice write.