As I write the line and sing the verse
I committed be:
Of verse have I writ history.
I have writ sound too.
Sound that I hear.
Telere
Eki
Simer
Mere
Nomire
Dife
Sepe
Stere
Cimer
Teller
And
There a corner in Valletta
That weeps
Weeps always
Dreams
And
Weeps
I pass by daily almost.
And of it I dream daily
Daily.
Soundless the bird sleeps
For it wisdom has
And
As the corridors long of a monastery
Almost empty; silent be.
Telere
Eki
Simer
Mere
Nomire
Dife
Sepe
Stere
Cimer
Teller
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem