With Hard-Pressed Palms cry our Blood and Tears flow
On how such Noble Court resurrect this Shame
As those in Closets Freed soon Hunted thus Now
For being Themselves as their Heart's Pure Name
Why every Tear these Souls Affected from
As Renaissance becomes the Tyrant's Form
This Hope some Honoured Saints once Placed upon
Now Dis-honoured by Pressures from their Storm
For these same Prayers used for Overturn plead
We Commit once more to this Righteous Fight
As Conscience and Morals debate for their Creed
As Best as Humanity deems for their Sight.
Land of Prayer for Devotion shouts Love
Please Heed their Cries O Parliament Above!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem