A night so cold;
mother's orders always hold;
Morning dews on the lawns;
my feet still aloft.
I never had blissful nights;
i toiled to restore our pride;
Half a boy i was;
lifting the weight of the world.
A task to carry;
a duty i must cherish;
My family so poor;
mother the only one.
Father crippled;
his manhood lay simple.
The landlord sleeps fierce;
daily asking for his rent;
My family so poor;
a duty i must always honor.
Baskets on my head;
always serve as our daily bread;
Off to the grind mill;
off to free family from misery.
My mother paces front and back;
my father lay in deep grievance;
My siblings ready their bags;
off to a citadel that is their right.
A basket on my head;
always defiling the night's dread;
A basket on my head;
my family's only bread.
A distant cry from afar;
my sisters wailing in the dark;
A distant cry from afar;
intruding the morning's eyes.
All have gone wrong;
the song cease to sound;
All have been raised to the dust;
a pride forever lost.
Bags and baggage in the clearings;
the public see our beggings;
clothes and decorations in the mud;
our pride has forever been lost.
A basket on my head;
never knew of this horror end.
A basket on my head;
a memory never scarce.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
distant cry from afar, good one, thanks.