There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox or wild hyæna calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan—
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful and deep...haunting. I first heard the three first lines in the Exquisite and one-of-a-kind movie, The Piano by Jane Campion... My favorite movie of all time! These three lines are the very last thing one hears in the movie. This made me look up the poem/poet.