Toss an’ turn
For he much yearns
Neath swarthy blanket of Night
Mind i’ flight
A foot in either realm
Harbinger at the helm
In pate; ’mongst harri’d mind
Evoking Sidhe-kind
Sleepless;
Morn flies in
Suspirations abate withal
Bespangl’d window of the sun
Dazed of restless feyness;
Or fay-ness?
Sleepless;
He stumbles through the waking hours
Awaiting a new and restless dreaming;
Sky benights him
In ’r chanson tones; The Beauteous lulls him
Back to sleeplessness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem