Now Horror looks me in the face
My grim and emaciated face
Where is the proud Poet Seer?
Demoralized and humbled
I to sing try and fall
Till a verse falls from heaven.
And it be the Muse that comes
A little light, a dim little night
O! in this horror-laden night!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem