With every cloud that wanders late,
And grey grace of hazy weather,
Remember the fierce November,
And all the freeze in chill that waits.
From dawn to dusk through time of day,
The howling wind and how they blew,
To steal from days, their golden hue,
And mock the lights that frets away.
A new yuletide in frenzy haze,
In frigid fog and dusty gleam,
To send Christmas a merry beam,
And patch with chill our sundered maze.
The coast, the fields of broken freeze,
The brand of grey and sunlight lack,
And sweetened whiz of windy spark,
We pray November will ne'er cease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You capture some wonderful images with your words.