Where is that bird
Of shadowy sands
That once I soft-cradled
In sheltering hands?
Where is the dove
Of moonlit beams
Who often so mastered
My waking dreams?
Where is that silvered
Moonlit bird
Who sang so sweetly
Her shimmering words?
Say not her spirit
Now is spent,
Drowned in deep sorry
And dark lament;
Full-throated she sang
As a cloud crossed the moon
So heartfelt her passion
By a wall now in ruins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the last stanza is breathtaking in this poignant poem!