All the days leapt golden.
And from faces kinder
Than found this light under
A burning did not cease.
Dawned the fateful itself!
How uncanny the look
That wandered from its book
Which I gave entrance to!
I warm memory by it.
With polar days I share
A midnight that is glare;
And glaringly apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem