What happened to the violin
that sang and played in the nights
though the winds raged and the storm ravaged?
what happened to the dreamers and to
the sleepers of that night in the warmed
houses that stood for centuries?
what happened to that night that
evaporated in the first mists of the
new dawn, at the first touch, first, first?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem