PRELUDE TO 'ILLUSTRATED POEMS'
FULL well I know the frozen hand has come
That smites the songs of grove and garden dumb,
And chills sad autumn's last chrysanthemum;
Yet would I find one blossom, if I might,
Ere the dark loom that weaves the robe of white
Hides all the wrecks of summer out of sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem