Never! shall I wander
from my old cold withered home,
where the rain streams down
in mirrored sheets
upon the marble crypts below,
by the steple fence! by the wooden gate!
by the bone white broken tomb!
from where I shall never wander,
waiting only
for God to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is good. good idea too.