I would
The quiet of the night distil
Into one sad drop
And being precious so
I will not let it go
But treasure it in a phial
Wherein one dropp by itself will stay.
And then
When morning dews will fall
When dawn will call
In a new morn and day
I will drink my precious drop
And sleep again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem