Work Text:
DAYS OF GLORY
By Amy Thompson
When I am old, I will recall the joy I feel today,
And fondly I will smile at things, at things we could not say.
I will believe you understood the thoughts within my mind,
They were so delicate and frail that words were hard to find.
The many years I spent with you were oh! so bittersweet,
I know that time will take them soon for time is swift and fleet.
We are together, you and I, and we have love and smiles,
Your dreams are different from mine, and that is what beguiles.
I love your presence here and now, and you have made me stay,
But time has come for me to leave, and I must go away.
You see, I have my own dreams too, and hope you understand,
They only can be filled at last, far in a distant land.
Your homeland is to me so sweet; it is where you belong;
I know that you are needed here and know you will be strong.
But now I hear another tune, a song of pain and grief,
My fatherland, so far away, needs comfort and relief.
My love, it really needs me now, just as you care for yours,
And therefore I must leave you soon, to go to northern shores.
We'll be together a short while - so do not live with fear,
And then you will be in my thoughts, I'll keep you very near.
My feelings for you will remain; they'll fill my every breath,
And we will never be apart, in life or after death.
Yet now I have a voice that says: "Child, you must understand:
You must fulfill your destiny, and help your suff'ring land!"
It is a voice that I must heed, a call I can't deny,
And I must know you'll understand how dreadful is that cry!
You'll feel what man has done to man, and then I know you'll see
The sorrow and despair that comes with lack of liberty.
Lights in my fatherland have dimmed; my country is in tears,
And I must go and help, my love; it may take many years.
My home, a window to the sea, the Baltic land and shore,
Knows that one day it shall be free, and lights will shine once more.
I must believe with all my heart that man will see at last,
That man will learn from history and follies of the past.
It is my hope that we will build a future made of peace,
And rest will come to everyone, when all souls have surcease.
On such a day I will return, once more to fragrant land,
Your southern land where flowers bloom, and take your outstreched hand.
The lonesome years will then have passed, and we will feel anew
The love we shared in troubled times, the love we always knew.
And we will see its beauty then, the nightingale will bring
Its tales of sadness and of love, and then our hearts will sing.
I know we'll meet again, when troubles cease and we are old,
Be it in this life or the next -- it is the dream I hold.
To be encircled by your arms, remembering days gone past,
It is a dream that must come true, when peace has come at last.
We'll laugh and weep and we'll embrace, as we recall our youth,
Our joyous, wondrous glory days, the days we searched for truth.
-The End-
© Amy Thompson 2004