Just another serene night!
A phantom's whisper,
Encamping in a turret,
a self-called bivouac.
Blasted,
Exhausted,
From wander'ng amidst the tempest,
Blanket'd one's self with only hope, steadfast,
from salvaging cold
and merciless gust.
Just another serene night!
An ardent prayer
Of a poor phantom.
Wounded
And parched
For the thirst of emancipation
from weather's pierces
and sprite's.
Please, another serene night!
The phantom beseech,
For an other day to go
battling in unwelcomed hollow.
To trenches may veto'
as besmirches righto.
Again, in unremunerated night,
In uncoordinated turbulence and fright,
Same phantom…
Whisper...
Please, a serene…
And another serene night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like the imagery of unremunerated night that is used throughout this poem :)