Too much I feel, too much I see,
Some babies crying by that tree,
With muddy hands and blooded skin
Too much the pain they take within…
Too much I feel, too much I see,
Over the fields so cries a bee,
No flowers for the honey left
And silence ’s growing in its depth
Too much I see, too much I see,
The hate I feel it concurs me
When I look up and see the gloom
That carries in its sight the moon…
Too much I feel, too much I see,
I wish someone would carry me
And take this burden off my shoulder…
I’ve been, for too long, the Key holder.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem