Candle mass has past
So the light comes early
Darkened clouds roll onward
Yet still the winter
Has not shown her face.
The squawking gulls
Cooing collar doves
The caw, caw, caw, of the crow
Make up the morning chorus
We shall read of love
The power so benign
We shall be challenged
Paul reaches down the centuries
Demands attention
In a world
That needs more light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem