DEAD man! will you ride with me,
As you rode that night of yore,
Will you ride with me, once more
To Tintagel by the sea?
When those savage words were said--
Words that challenged destiny--
To Tintagel by the sea,
Through the sweating night we fled!
Hearts, that raged with storm and sea,
Thundered through the scream of rain;
Laugh and ride with me again,
Take my kisses thirstily!
Clutch the cloak that flies apart,
Grip the stallion with your knee:
Let my wild, black tresses be
Once more pinioned on your heart.
Dream is dead, and dead are we:
But the dead rise up again!
Once more through the night and rain,
Dead man! will you ride with me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I cannot believe the scope of this woman. This is stirring, heroic, demanding more from us than a nod of the head. Stirring is too tame an adjective for this poem. 10,000 tens would not suffice for this quality of writing