Precursor
Of
A restless
Night
This night
This
Night
In
Old
Valletta
The wind already
Drifts
Through
The streets
Carrying dust with it
And some
Yellow leaves
I need to rest
I need to rest
From this Calvary
There must be rest
Here
In this old Valletta
Here
Now
This night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem