Traces of memory lurk round the bend
ready to pounce and ready to rend
strongholds and anchors of once trusted friends
hours of the night and of days to upend
Who then to harness the mind's racing steeds
bridle and tame remembrance's needs
who dare to conquer and quench that dark mead
dragons and serpents have brewed and decreed
Traces of memory hewn into stone
faces of erstwhile ancestoral bones
blotting bright hopes of the day with their groans
nameless and ageless but never unknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem