Will I ever see the morning?
Will this darkness give me rest?
It has both its hands around my throat
My soul's in deep distress
And I think of how it used to be
From this dry and dusty land
My soul was watered in the fountains of joy
How you led me by the hand
And in distress my soul cries out
Will you hide your face from me?
I'll die before the morning light
If you don't come and set me free
You are my song my strong high tower
It's unto you I run
Come seek me out, Lord hear my shout
If you don't then I am surely done
Revive me Lord for your name sake
Come set my soul on fire
Take me up from out this hellish pit
Come Lord and raise me up a little higher
That I may fly into they arms
And join that heavenly throng
That dwell before and round about
Your throne with joyous songs
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem