the night written down awakens love in a verse
each death hunting journey of exposure
lives on in starry mountain lights;
old men together often go quiet,
for all love the lines, green with mist
as high along the hills, a treacherous freedom:
the gray muse sits, rhyming time with season.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'the gray muse sits, rhyming time with season' Very memorable lines Patti...