When shattered seems the Lamp of Life in me;
And broken lies the glass-mantle of fame;
My body's wick too half-burnt and sadly;
Heart's fuel gone, in hopelessness and shame!
I ponder if these are my earth's last days,
As weary lie my spirit and my will;
While Death's cold-sneer is laughing at my face;
I feel miserable, so extremely ill!
The God in me goads me to carry on;
For earth's verdicts are not infallible;
New Hope could come with every morning's Dawn;
Nothing to God is ev'r impossible!
I continue to live as God demands,
He holds my hour-glass and its falling-sands!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem