Not tonight my Lord, not just yet.
To die a youth, a curse it is.
A wasted journey, a wasted birth.
Will I leave all that I am, and all that I have,
To follow you to the end of ages?
Will I forgo my present,
Which would be my past,
To walk with you into the world unknown?
Through the darkest hours and coldest deep?
Through the water logged and worm filled earth?
Will I not wait to see what tomorrow holds?
For tomorrow, the sun will shine,
And the birds will sing their sweet melodies.
So my lord, I beg your leave,
It is not the right time to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem