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