Why keep me poor despite my many tries?
My earthly needs are also important;
Why keep your silence, heeding not my cries?
I look akin a futile combatant!
I haven't envied another person, God;
I know my road to you is so very queer;
When will efforts of mine get their reward?
I know I can never become a seer!
My patience seems to ebb out rather fast;
I need your help to make my walk steady;
God, let my failures be a thing of past;
To keep my honest ways, I'm so ready!
Give me O Lord, in life your magic touch;
Athirst for you, I yearn for solace much!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem