Give me a chance O Angel of Fury
Stand not in the doorway so long
Break me the bread of forgiveness
Believe me when I say I was wrong
I've slept in the snow for a hundred days
Ideals melt in my mouth
I've swallowed the eggs of a hundred Night-Birds
And I need you to help get them out
A Northern wind caresses my sails
A humble green shoot breaks through
And on the skin of the Lake
Between sleep and awake
A feather tells tales on you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem