Campfire and drum-beat morn,
Farewell, goodbye.
Those who own Earth,
Are owned by dust.
Singsongs are gently gone...
What begun can die.
Those who had worth
Are worth as less as rust.
And boasts alone the river-stone,
That it is I
That know no birth
Nor death, and ever last.
From whence we were born,
And soar off high,
We land again on earth,
To rest at last.
Campfire and drum-beat morn,
Farewell, goodbye.
Those who had worth,
Are worth as less as rust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent! ! Well written [Those who had worth Are worth as less as less rust] I like this lines. Very meaningful!