In the waters
Like a mild sump
Wisdom erect swam
Gleeing like a child
Yet
Inside
Serious as the night
And cemeteries.
In the waters
The nightingale
Sang not
But swam
Downfallen from the fir
Whereon she stood
Dizzied by the beauty
Of the waters silver
In the moon and the
Night-stars.
The night is cold
Today
But it has a long way
To go
Many hour after hour
Of solitude and
Sub-conscious roots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem