There’s a believer at the altar
Who tries so hard not to falter
Kneeling before the divine
Seeking to taste the moral wine
While the faithful sing on
There’s a spirit in the winds
While the warmth flies on wings
Who’ll speak to the itching wounds
And heal the nation’s wombs
That bleed to give birth to love
There’s a stranger in the night
Who carries a burden with might
Seeking for an open door
To run away from the war
That holds the silent soul as ransom
Speak to the fallen believers
Embrace the spirit that whimpers
Words will guide the stranger home
Care will give the lost spirits form
Speak to the silent soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem