thanks, Beth,
much of my melancholic poetry has been inspired by the Bronte sisters' writings
The moor is dark, silent
not a single light has fallen
on this no-man's land-
only the passing winds lend
their voices here-- pain
swallows the lonely heart- again
and again--
the poet holds her pen
lost between words- faint
are the emotions- then
across the misty plain
drifts the most solemn strain
of a faraway violin---captured in gentle rain--
she is tormented with the pain
of love lost which will never ever return
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem