The cloud of darkness has come back again
To take away all the life’s thrill that hath remain
The light is waning beneath the shade of gloom,
Oh Slave- you cannot flee this despondent doom
The arctic shell is rising from my insides again
To cage me within the walls of this lonesome-pain
There is no second spring to such miserable bloom
A bunk heart - swept as refuse beneath the broom
If love were to come back to me, true and real again
Without offering boons of hope upon the lies in chain
Oh have I heard it before; sadness that slain the groom,
With such misery that is to hang me, alone in this room
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem