I heard a nightingale cry
and that was last night
and there was threatening star-light
yet
yet the nightingale cried ominous.
and yet
yet
though the cry was ominous
I stood star-struck amidst the frost
of that night, a statue of chill
erect as the firs and oaks
stood I.
and in the ominous song of the nightingale
I saw and heard of new evolution the gale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem