In the old churchyard of his native town,
And in the ancestral tomb beside the wall,
We laid him in the sleep that comes to all,
And left him to his rest and his renown.
The snow was falling, as if Heaven dropped down
White flowers of Paradise to strew his pall;--
The dead around him seemed to wake, and call
His name, as worthy of so white a crown.
And now the moon is shining on the scene,
And the broad sheet of snow is written o'er
With shadows cruciform of leafless trees,
As once the winding-sheet of Saladin
With chapters of the Koran; but, ah! more
Mysterious and triumphant signs are these.
Great one. I will love to read it over and over. I would like to translate it in Bangla. How can I post the translation? Can anyone please help me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A doleful masterpiece so masterfully strung by a timeless genius so vastly endowed...a nostalgically spooky anthem that turns and again turns its eerie leaves within my poetic soul!