I heard the croaking laugh
It was of a green goblin
And the goblin jumped into the night
Beneath the white search-light
Of the burning star-light
Burning, burning in the night.
Make me sleep, make me
In your womb
That yet be a tomb
Where flourish things
Where flourishes Beauty
And sadness is least.
I heard the croaking laugh
It was of a green goblin
And the goblin jumped into the night
Beneath the white search-light
Of the burning star-light
Burning, burning in the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem