I will arise and go now, to set my spirit free
and a small space seek out, of light and movement made:
nine lives are seldom granted Man, Time flies, who’d spendthrift be
knows that the bill’s soon paid.
I shall know peace at last, yet peace’s mantle slow
slips from the Present’s shoulders, while, waiting in the wings,
Tomorrow’s sensed, soft hovers, its dawn a purple glow,
its noon news of our passing brings.
I will arise and go now, alternate night and day
lap upon the spirit’s shore, draw one towards that door
which opens on a roadway all must take, so make hay
while sun shines, before the heart is sore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem