Could I but once wake
And having woken
Be pierced by the shafts
Of light unbroken.
To never, in the sun
A spent bowman know.
Of his glorious deeds
But their afterglow.
Could I but once wake
And having woke die!
With the unvanquished
Brightness standing by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem