Eighteen years of solitude,
I wept and wept alone,
For the people who broke me,
For the faiths those were torn,
Whenever I had courage to hold,
Whenever I tried to be bold,
I met the hard rocks, hearts stubborn.
The oxen grazed all fields,
I never knew the love that yields,
I was finished if on field of life am corn.
To suffer and suffer more,
Why it's alway me that mourn,
I ask The skies if to bear the pain i am born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes Shelly, when you are happy, there will be many to share your happiness. But, when you weep, you weep alone..