I stand alone through each long day,
In the Secret Valley of Silence;
Free to all souls, the hidden beauty calls.
From its blue vase, the rose of evening drops,
You're blind like us. Your hurt no man designed;
As one, at midnight, wakened by the call.
Go from me, I am one of those who fall;
I should like to imagine
Mountains, and the lonely death at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem