Little communities cling to their faith,
When times are hard. How can we ever hope
To stave off the abyss? How can we be saved
In the face of insurmountable odds?
Perhaps we can cultivate a light within
Ourselves via prayer or meditation.
Yet ultimately we will be reduced
To dust and that, alas, cannot be altered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem