There were a few bastions
In those thousands of bastion
Meters
A few bastions old and
Worn
More than the others
Wet
With weeping of the days
That passed?
Ah! the worn bastions
The more they wept
The more weeping!
And Motion in the mass
Universe
Continues working
Mechanical
Blind
Ruthless
And those few bastions
Weep
Weep
Weep nocturnal-cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem