Beware if leaning out Evening's windows
The tentacles of Night.
They grapple boughs to squeeze the light
Out of succulent leaves.
And in wrapping round what faintly stepped
Is then, farewelled, heard lost
Itself paralyzes! At which fears' cost
The beloved one's nerves grieves!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem