Flight as swift as sorrows wing,
Clasp our hearts and shield forthwith.
Descended from a million pars,
A light that looms above the stars.
Anguish that pelts with fury rains,
And burns the morrow ‘til form ‘tis lost.
This guilt that seeps and burrows deeply,
Unseen visage of horrors nightly.
Man induced by his own laws,
Judges what’s best-
Sufficed decry.
Therefore the bird that flies above,
And shadows our hearts with fear prescient.
This Albatross of gloom
Shrieks the wails of death precinct.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem