O, master poet
Write something
On your slate and show
To the world
An epic stamped on your foot
A trail of your footprints
The pages of your history
And the museum of the world.
Give the world a cloak
Against colour Or creed
Give the world a song
A sonorous song to heal
Hate and war
Your slate is beckoning on
The avenging truce
And the truth of the singing poet
Is calling the ears of the world
Give us o, muse
A lasting poem
To give posterity
A new beginning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.