Sleep beckons on a yielding eye
From a hectic day's toil
My duty abdicated
By a dream
The master I'm supposed
To watch over died in my dream
How difficult it is to tell
This to him for my job
Sits on the edge of a canyon
Waiting to tell
And a great fall
And mute for my conscience to prick.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i was a watchman so many times we anticipate all time... nice poem