The darkness grinned having seen
the sun’s farewell glide
to hide behind Cathedral’s dome.
There it sets its glow.
Gone are the motes of dust.
The thin iridescent rays
have fallen apart and are gone.
But behind the tall steeple,
above the dark, lonely semi-circle,
the sky, so distant in daylight’s long drag,
in an instant, and gently,
hangs out a lemon nimbus.
Sad beauty is at home on the Earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem