I stand atop the tower's high sill,
Engulfed in the cry of the crane,
And like a fury I let the chill
Rip through my wallowing mane.
O wild companion, o crazy fop,
I want to embrace you in strife,
And, tendon on tendon, two steps from the drop
Fight you for death or life!
And below I see at the shore, as fresh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem