Flushed With Toil At A Tender Night Poem by Edmund Wong
Flushed With Toil At A Tender Night
The sun, flushed with toil, is slowly leaving his watch,
As tenderly the moon reveals her curve.
Has it been five days since I last saw you?
I do not readily recall,
Nor have I kept any count at all;
Why should these cold numbers matter,
When every moment my heart slumps in lament
Of your absence, but like a feather
It dances around in your sight,
Till it falls on you again some other night?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/7/2026 10:57:23 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
