The Night Walked In Its Tunica Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
The Night Walked In Its Tunica
the night walked in its tunica
dark black funereal staid
like an exiled king by sorrow spent
the night walked in its tunica
over Hastings Gardens:
still the trees without a rustle stood.
The night in its tunica walked
They saw it on the bastions at mid-night
Tiptoeing helter-skelter directionless
And sneaking thief-like. At Dawn
They found its suicide, poor thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/15/2024 11:42:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
