Pensively our heads slumped towards the gates of woe
Inside that chamber of bleak wooden grey we shivered
Sunless windows overshadowed creaky floorboards below
As innocent fingers through the crumpled jotters quivered
In front stood the stove without a home's fiery glow
Sheltered by the desk loomed the center of our dread
Arose the specter from behind a silently humbled row
With its rod in crooked claw, our horror quickly spread
It shrieked its cruel commands upon our reddened ears
And it slashed our trembling voices with sarcastic glee
We daily toiled to avoid the condemned's incessant tears
That sprung from the beatings ignored by a pity's plea
Surely from this desolate darkness came some light
If only once to replace our sorrow's furrowed frown
Even now I see those little smiling girls sweep and clean
The day they joyfully shut Drum Brainless dungeon down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem