When was the last time
You reach in and clothe me
From the woe-bell's chime?
Daintily, I bow my head
To whichever path you've tread;
But the lone, dark whispers state
The dreams I have were dead.
Too short a sigh have I noticed.
No touch could waken me
From the trance of belongingness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem