tonight there is a blue haze
a mist rolled in I can't abate
and it may be the voice of fate
lately light has turned to speech
that whispers all that I may know
is prelude to the afterglow
but still I fear the gods deceive
beyond the haze the sky is gray
a somber suit for my dismay
a waste of time to dwell on that
for sadness is for living things
the dead may truly have no wings
the war is won the peace ensues
blue smoke marks the battlefield
a wingless knight discards his shield
I wish it could be great too in my translation I'll attempt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks in advance Dimitrios.