Oh, my dreams doth wandered now
Athwart the meadows and forth from the mounts
I dream my eyes do, deepening thus,
See light, as ever loathsome, foreboding.
Do you dream of such things?
Does your light, dreamt up, remain?
Or do shadows encroacheth in?
My dreams, do capture with vivid sight
Visions of realms of inordinate magnificence
But riddled with wounds of lances of knights
For which I seek solace from my own dream realm
But pursued by the devils, pierced with fright
I refuge to the hollow of night
With their secrets grasped close to soul
Eternal visions ever sought
Proffered quests for danger, now I must turn
To furtive riding in the north.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem