How difficult seeing the truth is.
How lonely thinking the truth is.
How brave speaking the truth is.
And, how warm is the hand
Which is held out to people crying in the sad wind
Behind the lie.
How kind is the heart
Which accompanies people who cling to
The homeland in their hearts.
Know there are those who harken when we pray,
And succour from the realms of Light will send.
Ever at hand to guide us, or defend,
Till breaks at last the dawning of our Day.