At the Round Table
The Knights at round
Their cuirassed King
The Queen set on a throne
Behind:
The dusk was falling
Slow
Slow
Slow
Silence; no words
Not even when old Merlin
Came
Thoughts raced as lightning
In furrowed brains.
Words ceased.
Looks talked and spoke
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem