In the lost stillness of night there shone
Again a glimmer - that to me unknown
Was the herald of a morn-born to the dark
Of an eclipsed world - barren and stark.
A cautious man on wisdom's crutch had leaned
But tempted by illusion shunned caution and seemed
For a moment to soar on graceful wing
Crowned with the laurels of a glorious Spring.
A hand held out a Hope to hold
As beguiled eyes a dream behold
But wing and grace in a moment were done
Yet in the depths the glimmer still shone.
Faith your name with Betrayal I'll take
And Truth your wager on Deception I'll stake
For the Day is dressed in Night's darkened gown
And still'd is the song of the Morn unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem