Rain is falling over there,
Beneath the dark, grey sky;
It is night, Christabel's time,
Something there on leaveless tree;
An owl drenching in darkness,
Waiting like woolf for a prey;
Moon is absent, airless air
Moves like motionless moth
And mourns melancholy melody;
Raining sound sings every drop.
An idiot, pehaps leaving his wife,
Stands there to toy with time.
The owl screams and he laughs
with the horrible haunting handcuffs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem