When I wake in dawn light,
diffused by mist into a deathly grey,
and contemplate the passage from sunrise to night,
knowing that the sun’s white warmth will clear the day,
I bend over the page studiously to write
these urgent words before the chill
night mists return and snuff out the light
of the sun’s brief candle on the window sill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem