Lucidity comes in the morning -
A shining, off-whitish she-bird.
The night though spent in mourning,
The voice of the hope is bold.
You know your road eternal,
The wheels of the Karma a-scream...
And dreams, so sick, so venal,
Become sour-pussical cream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem