"My magic dreams
Have lost their spell
Where there was all
There's an empty shell"
There are no people on the streets
No frantic rush hour to come
All around is silence
No voices calling us home;
And your voice, of all the voices,
Has just drifted over me
Away, over the rooftops, into the sky
Where it will always be;
But in the all-pervading silence
In that mysterious ether
Your voice will be re-born
And lead us back to Aretha.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem