Have neighed to-night since sunset
And before:
But grew in intensity after red dusk
Departed to make way for the cold Night:
The woods, the boughs, the trees,
Move, shake, tremble: the houses
As if with earth quake move
Faces turn pale inside; rain patters
Thunder roars loud and raw; it
Will not dissemble
We assert that from long ago.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem