When prospect sinks into night
When fell the all autumn leaves
and ice be thee warmth,
When wind whispers to none
When grief take thy final tear
and yon sight be not of stars nor moon,
For you I’ll whisper dusk and dawn.
When life is becoming of none;
Then all my dreams are stars and moon, for you to see,
for you to croon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem