A wisper and a glance Death does his dance.
A stance of grey balance in a daub instance,
Death does his dance.
The light of life dims whiles the black clouds of mourners gather.
Terror and disbelieve fill the heart of onlookers.
In rhythmic succession cool winds swirl about: twisting and turning the coverings of shivering mortals.
And yet with a snide stride Death does his dance.
Suddenly a desperate attack is snuffed: the struggle of a persevering spirit comes to an end with a sinister smile from the unearthly visitor. His conquering presence refusing the power of Life and Hope in daring movements.
The drama is interrupted and men hear the dialogue of the Spheres.
Their spoken testament reflects in nature the victory that comes from loosing.
Meanwhile the branded robber does his dance: twisting and turning his body to a dark and lifeless tune.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well Thought John, well thought.!