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The Midnight Trolley Bus

When I am besieged with despair and reprove,
Because can't stop fatal disaster,
I enter a blue trolley bus at his move -
That's here by chance and the last one.

Oh, bus of midnight, speed along sleeping streets,
Fill them with your endless rotation
To pick up all people whose lives, like poor ships,
Were wrecked by the fatal occasions.

Oh, bus of midnight, open your noiseless doors,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sue Atkinson 20 November 2015

This is a truly appalling translation of a beautiful poem.

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Sue Atkinson 20 November 2015

This is a truly appalling translation of a very beautiful poem.

0 0 Reply