It was a dark day afternoon
with the sky brooding met die lug
and at s time when
it would be night soon
and lighting flashed down and. then
fell the first rain of spring
and after a slumber we were awakening
and saw bolt of lighting after bolt of lighting
come crushing down
and our intimate joy was our very own
and there was great comfort in being home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem