Alone at a club, I dined and stemmed
From the soil to know her and the dreams;
She clung sometimes to the throws and thorns,
Addressing her was a plain mystery of sanity.
The chief theatrical show emerged from the look
Of the place.
It was a new neighbourhood, newly vanishing,
With delights of dread, and shorter paths of sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem