In those days of Apocalyptic turmoil
When the Earth and Heavens fellowship this Union
Spectres of the life-Sun set my Spirit free
And the full-faced Moon laughs our loneliness to sleep
In those year whence I starve my passions
When through Nature and Time, I learn my lessons
When age cripples my nimble-youth knees
With strings of the Lyre I shall always Sing Me
In those Seasons of perilious Zest
When the awkward Sun rises from the West
Whence the Inquisitive Prod seeks out my Fate
I'll always Sing Me, even when my Sun has set.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem