A morning Poem by Hanny Michaelis
A morning
A morning
like any other.
The cool light
impassive, but without
the old brusqueness.
The day has shed
its thorns, since the night
was gentle and dark,
since a gesture
defeated the words
and warmth could flow unhampered, in long
waves of release, since
peace - for years a fugitive -
allowed itself to be found at last
blindfold.
Translation: 2009, Judith Wilkinson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/14/2024 5:29:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
