As the sky darkens,
They gather 'round,
Carrying tools,
To make sound.
As the Sun falls,
The drums beat,
The flutes flow,
They stomp their feet.
The Darkness complete,
The pipes wail,
The men bellow,
A frightening gale.
The sky greys,
And they stop,
Until the Sun,
Shows its top.
The drums die,
The pipes play,
The flutes fly,
Into the day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hey, nice poem. Read mine - Indebted - Adeline