The brazen bells of midnight upon the darkness toll,
But sleep, life's custom agent, won't take from me his dole;
Down paths so many follow, death would my spirit lead,
And death, when all considered, resembles life indeed;
While in my heart the balance does level stand between
And neither to the one, nor to the other lean.
(Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem