Silent song, creeping chill-
Upon the fall of twilight ….
Cloak of darkness wrapped upon-
He arrives, the majestic night!
Each rose of the day, awaits-
The king, to greet him first!
Every rose, scented sweet,
For his majesty, the silent king!
Fondling with soft petals,
Bathing him with nectar sweet,
For little they do know-
That they are his, not him theirs!
He embraces with sinewy arms,
Crushed, with beauty sucked-
They fall upon the mother earth
Dry, withered, lifeless, grey!
Each day, youth intact-
He arrives, to suck out more-
They await patiently for him,
With fragrance in the cup of youth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Silent song, creeping chill- Upon the fall of twilight …. Cloak of darkness wrapped upon- He arrives, the majestic night! Each rose of the day, awaits- The king, to greet him first! ' it is the fall of twilight here presently also, arriving with ever more heavily falling rain; nice powers of observation 10+