Retrieved, a soul. Then lifted
Tiresome Earth, up from out.
Of this peace, once enfolded
Night-winged, of it borne where?
With nothing of sound does blow
Mournful creaked, a tree through
When tracking moon's silver glow
A flash! Dim-forested!
Before this journey had ended
Life's, Death's lie proved there.
warringal park
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem