A black mind it will mourn
When man's at his weakest
The long hour before dawn
When bad men are meekest
In the deep black of night
When the lights have gone out
When no wrong can seem right
The black dog festers doubt
When the devil walks tall
Angels dance to his tune
Consumed in the black hall
By the light of the moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem