O’ I have heard a pity cry –
“How a warped cloud whisperâ€
Where these casual eyes are lost –
To growing limits of fugitiveness!
Above a steep plateau of mind,
That enshrouded a hour’s late;
Only a single thought it reflects,
One face on heart –
It casts,
Superior of all and her Almighty!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem