And there may not be Sun today;
And it's snowy throughout the day;
And the bite of cold may overwhelm;
And none but cries may echo the frame.
So all things on earth is made in soil;
So all in thou heart is a craft in soil;
So all the wounds you gave in toil;
So all may sizzle and direct in boil.
All that stands high tend to be brittle;
All that stands strong ought to be brittle;
All butterfly wings wither out to be brittle;
All cotton balls never meant to be brittle.
O' almighty, give heart strength to fly high in air;
O' almighty, give heart strength to flow with wind;
O' almighty, give heart strength to incarnate beauty;
O' almighty, give heart strength to be like a cotton ball.
May the Sun proudly kiss tomorrow's earth;
May thou heart not direct to spill over n boil;
May almighty give strength to withstand scars;
May love define hate, let whatever vile cry from far.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem