As to a falling cloud fallen in disgrace
Wander and roam I, humble pilgrim.
In tattered clothes came to Mtahleb.
In my down-fallen state to seek consolation.
And heard the wild raw music of the seas
And shrill Wagnerian notes of irate waters
And in that ire grew my consolation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem