Then
In to the night pray
If thunder you will roar
Roar gently:
My fear grows
Then
In to the night pray
If rain you will patter
Patter gently:
My fear grows
Then
In to the night pray
If wind you will blow
Blow gently:
My fear grows
Hear
Hear the windows and
The doors
Creak – they creak already
Though but red dusk is
Still on wing of flight.
And the sea waves I hear
Rustle
Rustle
Rustle as they hostile
Enter into the port
Those soldier-sailors of the benighted dark:
And tempests will be as centuries were
And as the tempests were in centuries old
In old Valletta
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem