Though what howls for
This wind, heard to
Deride, as knock o'er, cold-hearted
That left for him
Eves, lonelier
Reason-wandering, memory-led
Gives in, no more
To fate's sceptic;
Encouraged therein: 'girl; no icon!
Who came and went
Dreamy-misty.
Stepping out, back, as a vision.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem