The echoes of ancestors
Seep out from behind the slanted gravestones
Shining a truth
Through the stained glass hearts
Of those assembled in search of salvation
Lined up neatly in orderly rows
In the hope redemption
Outside the rooks in the trees flutter the churchyard watchfully
The sudden bells scatter them skywards
Waving wings into the dusk
And evensong echoes in the empty streets
As the slanted shadows of the gravestones
Lengthen towards the night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have read 5 of your poems and I can now say that you write really, really well Phil! You have a very poetic way of describing things. Just like the best poets you have a gift actually.