The deeds hast cast up dust
Upon these heads, and must
Mine eyes to fail with tears
Dancing in the storm's tease.
Mocked be thy soul dost that
Sleepest in deep sleeps, that
Delights death, and embrace
Its eternal... viles* of solace
Gloomy thoughts to reclaim
Though patiently this soul,
Be reaped to sprung anew
That green stem, hope drew
Bittersweet death to have clown
Life and all its existence drawn,
And haggard from sleeplessness
This soul strained, leftmost lifeless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem