As the parched earth needs the rain
So the soul longs for pain
The pain that only love can bring
The one that makes the heart sing
A solemn beat to every feat
The marching cry to do or die
It beats in the hearts of warriors bold
It beats in every maiden of old
It's in the cries of infants
Yearning for their mothers embrace
It is in the war cry of every proud race
It puts all humans in their rightful place
Denying gratification is a dangerous game
One played by those with fame
It can be the death ring
For that which the heart dare never sing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem