I've sweat and I've bled,

But never enough.

The tears that I've shed

Don't show that I'm tough.

So many before me,

And so many to follow,

Will feel pain 

That I could never swallow.

So easy it is to complain of one's misfortune,

While silently so many others suffer.

Sweat and blood have no meaning.

The amount which you emit shows no strength.

The amount which you emit shows no sorrow.

Pain cannot be measured in fluids of strife.

When so many stay dry 

And face life with courage.