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You brothers, who are mine,
Poor people, near and far,
Longing for every star,
Dream of relief from pain,
You, stumbling dumb
At night, as pale stars break,
Lift your thin hands for some
Hope, and suffer, and wake,
Poor muddling commonplace,
You sailors who must live
Unstarred by hopelessness,
We share a single face.
Give me my welcome back.



Translated by James Wright


Submitted by Holt

Added: 2 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 7 Sep 2026 10:22 AM | Viewed: 6448 times

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