Now the saddening flute may sing
Of the dismal harvest and empty barns.
We were told that hard work and faith,
Will surely make us great.
So, we toiled without respite
Till our soles were callused.
The twilight knows our shapes,
The dawn has marked our footprints.
Life does not come as we wish,
All we ever want is beauty;
But there are only ashes.
And hope keeps us from misery.
I'll try as much as necessary;
Till time and chance change all things.
Topic(s) of this poem: life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.