He brought some little present inwardly,
Light picked up from behind fortunately,
Then he tucked my arm under his arm
And ran to the park of all the monopolies,
Enlightening the burrowed sights
With as much condition as examined papers.
In the confusion of the moment,
One heart sank a little from the fray
Like solid bullets hacking, attacking.
This day a fasting day, this night a momentous night,
If the worries of the periods were sinking under
The snowfield of light, and darkness spread like
Little light,
Into the eyes of the storms that winked at the hundreds
Of men in the hailstorm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem