Hasten a move no eyes had caught
Nor mouth of errs may yell in doubt
Whilst a bare hand rage thou soul
Scarcely had I chortled hearing no shout.
Thou art borne out of deceiving
That pave just with injurious sting,
And in that evening of profound mind
Only the moon stares behind…
The pale moon’s eye of endeavored light
A suppression of the many furious bright
But fierce is its stare towards my night
Nervous! Like a struck bell with a holy fright.
A shedding from a sturdy fiend of lust
Had his shadow in town be seen no more
And in that lake of frozen Hell
Groan in pain with deeds you adore!
To dwell in your midst with my fiercest roar
In this ancient battle of forgotten time…
Vast hatred of teeming anger stalk
That lonesome heart of my written crime!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem