you are an enamel on the wind;
you with your bright clock ticking;
a tangle of myrhh and extravagance
bewildering the starlight;
dazzling past Time, infused with gold
well beyond wondering.
bitter honour conferred
or not conferred,
the nightingale has flown to you
and will not depart.
mary angela douglas 8 november 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem