The lighthouse stands like an Easter Island statue
Staring stonily into the leaden skies
Wrecked waves far below on the shore
A foghorn keens like a banshee through the gloaming
There is nothing sadder than a treeless land
Jutting up from a bare limb of rock
This edge of earth is truly God forsaken
Peopled only by wind howl and sea crash
And the bitter screech of gulls
Like Bach in a black mood
Overlooking a beach
Where every pebble's a quern
Reducing the world to shale and sand and shingle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This edge of earth is truly God forsaken....wonderful as well as beautiful poem. Light house to show direction to ship as God to life.