You brothers, who are mine, Poor people, near and far, Longing for every star, Dream of relief from pain, You, stumbling dumb At night, as pale stars break, Lift your thin hands for some Hope, and suffer, and wake, Poor muddling commonplace, You sailors who must live Unstarred by hopelessness, We share a single face. Give me my welcome back. Translated by James Wright Submitted by Holt
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