The winter sea-gulls I prefer
For they clamor against turbid skies
Heavens of chill and wrath
And dark deep desperation clouds
My Soul, my Soul yearns for this!
For it feels nose-diving be its task
Now!
From the heavens water yet not fall
And snows with us are not, as yet not come!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem