Nightfalls Poem by Seamus Hogan
Nightfalls
This evening of open windows
Night waits among the leaves
As quietly as tea draws,
As a last fruit ready to fall.
Things seem about to step apart,
As though far too close
For what is coming to pass through.
Then, as if grown too long,
Song breaks away from the bird
And in this silence everything,
As in a minuet, is briefly parted
Before the last movement can begin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 8:59:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
