When I heard of your lose
I felt it sharper than a razor’s cut
Inside my axon
Why do God have to take him?
Such a successful folk
Before he taste the fruits of his labour
Our hopes are wrinkled, raged and ruined
But bless my soul, loud and sound
The creator knows the reason
Let’s keep hope like soldiers in a battle
That such a fellow will one day rise
And we shall be tigers again
Let’s take heart and be strong
It is a lose, but all isn't lost!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem