Lenore cried again tonight
her slumber again cut short
she awoke her face alight
her plans she did abort
her noise could be heard downstairs
and even down the street
on she cried without a care
her death was sure to meet
'take me far away' she said
'burn as i was wood'
she thought that it would leave her dead
she tried as though it would
the nights rolled on, poor Lanore
lay lifeless on her bed
her life stole away from her
her dream fulfilled, she's dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem