Frozen blood o' thee lie,
I stareth thy te'rs crawleth,
Numb fingers o' thine,
De'd rose, soken wine,
Waitin' fo' the soul o' mine,
Tranquility ami'st us flasheth,
Melancholy too faces death,
Reminiscences t'en frozeth,
Whispers face silence,
Thy pouch, ink bleedeth,
Thy feather shrinketh,
Knees, the ground, no more toucheth,
Thy body, und'r my roof, freezeth,
My soul, fr'm thy body, drifteth.
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I would like to translate this poem
You write poems of death quite well. Bien!