Thought noir, lent and grand
well and fare, stairway beckoning
and bell of a stare
take time with knowing
and rest your last spell
in the cradle of day
where lives living are spared
testament of the beggar
the blind man's repair
the red flag of brutal waging
and the conquest laid bare
has eyes for its ending
and never the stair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem