Aussie battler thats what he is
Leathered skin and bothered brow
Never thought it would come to this
Soldier of the hardened ground
His family worked this cursed land
Since white man first did come
It was fertile then was ploughed by hand
And then the droughts had come
Flyblown sheep and skeleton cattle
Litter the land in droves
The landman calls for assistance
But still not a damn thing grows
The rains they come occasionally
They flood the barren plains
The landman stands and surveys his land
And tries hard to hide his pain
The little mrs hardened hands
Tries to console her mate
She holds back the tears she cries
They alone could build a lake
His father would turn in his grave
But what is there left to do
The bank comes in tommorrow
And takes it all for dues
At last defeated by the earth
This last battler picks up the dust
And as it flies on stale hot winds
He bows his head and gives it up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem