tortured soul trapped, into tree of roots;
great sighs, of end of breathing
his pain unfolding; the vista of death coming
above the rocks, the spent spirit weeping,
the love ones he can't console-
death in defeat, they feared
though he lives again there; holy tears
wept they, while remembering his passion
of passion, his remembering while they wept
tears holy there, again lives he;
though feared they defeat, in death
console can't he, one's love-
the weeping spirit spent; the rocks
the above coming death, of vista the unfolding pain
his breathing of end; of sighs great
roots of tree, into trapped soul tortured
(written to Dead Can Dance, the Host of Seraphim)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem