Grandeur is less a word
More an unfathomable feeling
When I look at you
Rising above the floating clouds
Your burning bosom held by
The tranquil crown of snow
Like that bald eagle, you oversee
Puny trifles at your feet
When your passions melts out
From the half-burnt candle that you are
Who ever shall see your fires again
That still rages on inside
“How in the darkness of the lands
Shall there glow a soulful light”
May you stand and write this up
Forever with the inks of the lonely sky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem