The flower has bent its head
It was the dusk and the first chill
It was the shroud of
Night, the distant, distant
Mantle
The waters everywhere with
Crowns over their head
Come
Flower
Rise
See in the distances long
But clear the first dots
Pixels of the first lights be near
For Dawn shall come
Thus flower raise your head, the bent head….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem