It was Autumn, and the clouds unfolded like a blanket
filling night under its cover,
and the white worn pages of my prayers, dimmed.
The fiery canopy overhead, dulled to grey tones.
And I saw the night roll over the whole world
snuffing out the celestial guides.
I prayed. Even in the dark, I walked and prayed
to the angels and royal heroes and heroines of heaven,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem