The night got on the lute
And put its fingers on it:
And tried to string it
Faint discordant notes came out.
At which the night
With anger mouth-foaming
More strongly strung the lute
More resolute:
And then
And then
A dirge came out
In those strange sounds
Ghosts and goblins out
From their abodes
And danced
And danced
To those strange notes
Of that strange sound:
And the moon light
The white moon light
Looked faintly on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem