Fear must be not of us.
Yet Fear is as of
Us.
For we are neither gods
(as yet)
Nor shrouds and
Ghosts.
Fear bends Wills and
Strengths.
But neither Will must
Bend we
Nor strength must
Bend we.
Mother,
Hear my cry of suffering:
Each night I am in pain
And
The night hours cry to me
For join with you.
Fear smiles most at night.
Fear chills most at night.
Fear sways scepter at night.
For we are neither gods
(as yet)
Nor shrouds and
Ghosts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem