A life, void of meaning
Which but echoes
That, for himself, back o'er Time's vale
The lonest cries.
Circled as reminders
A hawk's non-woes.
Except as far companions, in
His unloved heart
No self pity has, God's who art
Filled out their skies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem