face
in mist-veils transparent
closed
and yet I view!
I sad the sadness.
My fingers thump and thump.
Will I count the lost hours of my life?
the largesse of the snow-storm?
the wide heart of the thunder?
the startling of the
lightning?
no I sap my own Sub-Conscious
And the Inner Soul grates against
the fading Conscious
battling to the last
falls
spear in hand!
falls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem