Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky
Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
And wake among the harps of leafless trees
Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.
The chilly purple air is threaded through
With silver from the rising moon afar,
And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue
In the southwest glimmers a great gold star
Above the darkening druid glens of fir
Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir.
And so I wander through the shadows still,
And look and listen with a rapt delight,
Pausing again and yet again at will
To drink the elusive beauty of the night,
Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup,
That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.
I love the colorful wordage used in this piece. The chilly purple air and gulf of clear, unfathomed blue. I had never heard of this poet until today, and already I love her and her work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
I was looking for a poem to put out in our library display about the autumn. At long last I found this.The poem actually made me feel as the voice in it. And my soul got filled with the divine enchantment. Many thanks for setting this site!