Should we this day not dance
But stare in woeful trance?
Should we yield to the lonely chill
And let sorrow whistle at will?
Should our fates in the fading year
plait on us a crown of fear?
After the tempest come our calm
After the dirge - a happier psalm
After the long, long night
After the darkness - the light
After the dawn has clearly break
The shouts of cheer our joy awake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem