Merry has been Dawn
But now the shades
Of yester night's storm
Darken the face of the lawn
Storms, so many in my life
Have been.
My face so many times
Aghast.
And all for just foundering,
Slow foundering.
Waning less slow than day,
But then
Not restored as another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem