I saw her in the garden - it was night.
I could scarcely see the plants,
The trees, the flowers, the vines,
But I saw her alright,
So brightly clad in white;
The moon was present, full & willing,
But she, herself was light. -
& Like a shooting star across the yard,
She faded fast from sight.
It was a sign down from on high
That made me drop the knife;
A sign that heaven's never far,
Sent to preserve my life.
Now when the binds of Earth pull hard
& I take back up the knife,
I recoil as I recall, that night in the garden,
My angel of the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem