Then Sounded The Beagle. Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Then Sounded The Beagle.
Then
Sounded the beagle.
It was an instrument of heaven
By heaven for heaven.
Ceased the thunder roars
And
The lurid lightning struck not
More.
Rested the ancient town
From the cacophony of that
Orchestra of wild raw sound
And
Night made it enter more on
Rote
Yet in the Conscious as yet
For
In the Sub-Conscious brains
There worked
There wrought
a new civilization
Every day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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1/1/2026 9:54:05 AM # 1.0.0
