In despair and sorrow i lay
And with the pain in my hart i coudnt pray
With troubles i lived
And wished my rescue would come fast as i grieved
Though with many days of distress and pain like prickles of a pin
Still my heart couldn't fetch me my worst sin
And as i thout and pondered deep
I wandered in the exile of sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem