From the frosty scowl came
The drear, the humdrum of the day.
For
They sung not, nor
Joyful as children with smile
On faces they roamed about Earth.
Furrowed and scowling too
Grew
The face of the scornful Earth
Angry
By vesper-time and
First hours of the reign of
Night.
The doors
Slammed and closed.
The lights went off.
The humdrum day had at
Least finished to yield
To the misty silences of
Rotating figures nocturnal
Not joy but at least
Shiver of the spine
The thrill of night
The stars
The moon
Conquerors of the humdrum
Conquerors of the dreary.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem