Time will never pass.
Dragged for sorrow
As of willow
The stream of it.
What of it doth glass
Hopeless clouded o'er.
Bleak deposit.
Struck of what, this night
That more frantic
Leant botanic
Two hearts assuage?
A dream-flash! Moon-bright.
Leaves its impression
Clear to presage.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful. Interesting to read.