There's soup and bread on the table
with which to fill ourselves..
I will not fret today,
For tomorrow belongs to God...
The fuel tank may be empty,
& the kids must go to school..
But this is not my worry..
for tomorrow belongs to God.
The fireplace is cold & stony
not an ember to warm chilly rooms..
but we wrap up in winter woolies,
knowing that tomorrow is God's...
He knows what's not in the larder,
He knows what's not in the bank..
Today we will not go hungry...
and tomorrow
belongs
to God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem