And I am blown along a wandering wind
And hollow, hollow, hollow all delight.'
And fainter onward, like wild birds that change
Their season in the night and wail their way
From cloud to cloud, down the long wind the dream
Shrill'd; but in going mingled with dim cries
Far in the moonlit haze among the hills,
As of some lonely city sack'd by night,
When all is lost, and wife and child with wail
Pass to new lords; and Arthur woke and call'd,
'Who spake? A dream. O light upon the wind,
Thine, Gawain, was the voice- are these dim cries
Thine? or doth all that haunts the waste and wild
Mourn, knowing it will go along with me? '
29th Mar 2k13
Islamabad.
From
THE PASSING OF ARTHUR
by
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
http: //www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/idyl-pas.htm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice poem with the diction and flowed up the pain