Black winged with crimson underneath partaking in its flutter.
As he waited and watched, the evening air made him shutter.
The serenity of the room made it more difficult to dream
Even when the stars and Moon were settling with their beam.
The sensation of this flying beast overwhelmed the boy.
Sleeplessly shaking and not partaking in imaginative joy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem