My life foams fast, spurts sudden surge,
Appraise past fancy, sullen urge,
Then see toy soldiers leaden eyed
Attest failed flight, time, grace denied.
Here at my post I’m posted, tied,
And no-one dares to act as guide.
Right, tight, where Hell’s four streams converge:
I stand and wait. Serve on lead’s purge!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem