In the hours of night almost dead
I faced the wind with my chest
A cover of black o'er me spread
Beyond the starless night's nest
The hills that in day spoke aloud
Echoed and mimicked my voice
Now retiring mimicked black clouds
And left myself to rejoice
I trained fingers to draw some lines
In the night that bites and chills
But found some lights along decline
With curve and slope of the hills
Their shapes were oft like ogling stars
They teamed in coherent rows
Jealous the sky viewed this spectre
Ashamed of its starless pose
Were the lights of day stored in them?
Or stars fell without a noise?
One twinkled like star at the hem! !
Thus answered me in its voice.
Night and day or sorrow and mirth
Oft illusions to the eyes
They change with time as moves the earth
And dispels doubts with sun rise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem