Like Sun and Moon, they share the sky
But courteously divide the day;
No matter what the clocks may cry
Be sure that one is on the way:
And when the two together ride,
No matter where the wicked hide,
How high, how terrible the tide!
March 12, 1944
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love his work, wish I could speak to him. He was brilliant