Winter, sombre starless evening,
with wan moon asleep,
or beyond dark cloud-bank, grieving?
Summer's love lies lost. Swift weaving,
bats sweep low - dread deep
keeps silent vigil, disbelieving.
Springboard brave new world's conceiving
taken in, eyes weep
over one, harm done, deceiving.
Who hope's hay ricks once was [s]heaving,
bitter harvests reap
happiness fast passed receiving.
Fallow fields yield shield's naive spring,
earn yearning, no birds cheep,
learn life's brief, brief s[w]ing.
Loss, with Winter interweaving,
forfeits light's spark receipt,
misconceptions stark perceiving.
Jack Frost's sting brings bite bereaving,
leaves life crumpled heap,
passes on to other thieving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem