On we rode through winters long, snows knee-deep,
Lands unknown and uncharted-the clouds cried,
Grey and dull. Lost in trees and limbs that weep,
We roamed fields in circles where black roses died.
Our quest we knew not: perhaps there was none.
A grail is the object of the holy fool.
We traveled where we were led by the Sun,
Tyrant in the sky with its gleaming rule.
The path behind us disappeared as light
Left with sunset, and we were now alone.
The only goal was to survive the night
And come to a place beyond wood and stone.
Then we saw that a new world had been sought,
But all that was found was all that was brought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem