To the veil, frailty of a summer glow –
In his last trip down the lane,
To call –
Held in a gentle blow that glanced through –
That glanced through the thick plane.
That moment left to the Right,
Last for the night before it backs,
Through insular voice of this heart;
Through absurd letters, fluttering Ducks.
A voice no more faded within,
Captive in cages of his mirrored soul,
And left to their ungainly laughter; seen,
Cruised through far –flung yawning bowl.
And the Autumn swears; veil must itself be cleaved,
Under autumn veil – clung and pledged.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem