It does not always turn out as one wishes.
I would wish for peace, but there is none.
Sometimes one simply has to wait,
Month after month — and winter will recede.

Though beaten with the stones of suffering,
A deep joy will truly take hold,
Drip from the eye as a tear,
And sweeten the wormwood of hopes.

So, having gathered our strength,
Winged with faith in the truth,
Not weakened in patience, not bowed,
We shall prevail! No hesitation.