I waltzed amongst the midnight blue...
Were I free, were I through?
I slept beneath the mid struck moon....
Was it late or early noon?
I fished amongst the wettest lagoon....
The fish be biting, not too soon.
I watched the stars, amongst the waves...
If I'd slipped, I'd join the graves.
Rehersed of life, was not I good...
Survived the night, if I could?
Amongst the natives, abreached naught bad....
Now remained, I, most bade, sad.
But, for the morn of deafened light...
I must be, the worse off sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem