Mark the cold, mute and
Naked tree erect
Point out the season?
Pain reflect
Had left all
Dark paths of eerie
And mark in that
Cold mind of freeze
Where is that faithful breeze?
Oath sunshine and fruitful trees
Is that I am still erect and alive
Is that I shouldn't be?
Like a Twig of blossom
In twilight blunder
Rain of pain
In shower of thunder
My body -sack of bones, broken sap
In that observe
The shivery and gap
I am not alive and erect my dear
Ask the
Falcon-the witness of gale
Little nook in hay of bale
Had left all about me
I am down and let me be
Let the winter blanket for me
Let the spring hope for me
Let the summer burn for me
Let the autumn balm for me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem