Overt night, overcast heavens,
frowning men, speeches over a
man who moves not.
Heavens are overcast not necessarily with
clouds and rain and storm.
Face upwards, without moving, in the suit
favorite to his father.
The crowd that gathered would then soon
disperse.
This man had a love as a Muse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem