It is here I will finish my journey,
Here it was begun
And here it will end.
Dusk is beckoned by the call to sing
At Evensong,
And the light catches on those flimsy frames,
It is here that I belong
And this I know and have done, hence my song.
Not for the choir this sweet lament,
But stored in my heart,
A solitary outburst of all
I’ve left unsaid.
Oh Cathedral! How proud you stand and hold
Your ground; never move,
Never leave this spot
That means so much my words can never say,
I ask but this:
When ceaseless night picks up from ceasing day
My wandering erring body leave, decay.
Save just my heart,
Which never once did stray
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem