When the woods restless
Be
When the woods restless
Sway their trees
And move
Move slow and sad
In the grueling dance
Of a sad sunset pining
Red in trance.
Then
The Old Man
The Poet Seer
Carried the heavy lyre in
Hand
And with voice
Tremulous
Yet he found words
Noble and great
And sang and chanted
Chanted and sang.
And
Came out
The stars
The white stars
To watch
And slow
Down their
Vast faces
Rolled
A tear
Then
Another
Tear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem