Lonesome through the night
A love song in lost call
Like fluttering of wings in flight
In brownish yellow fall
Days near forgotten we found
Now filling the empty woe
Soon frosty earth all around
In winter’s cold wintry blow
Where shadows dance and turn
In forgotten flickers gleam
With our hearts passion yearn
Of rivers of thought and stream
My heart was once calling
In echoing footsteps break
Each trust your own befalling
And both together to awake
Blow blow now wintry cold
So much is passing or going
That love can never again hold
In its distances and flowing
We were so much like a feeling
That turns in difference touch
Its time of turn on wheeling
Shall never again know as much
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I read the title, and there in the box of people who read Peter S. Quinn was one lonely name: Patricia Gale. So I just had to comment on this lovely poem before it goes off to join your whole beautiful collection of poetry. A very winning piece indeed.