Before me
Sour Soul
Holder of the grave
Watcher of dim
And rugged
Towers
Serpentine passages
Moving hogs and
Talking hedgehogs
Businesslike and
Bespectacled
Before me
You have become a Dusk
A fading
A losing
A waning
My very Soul
In its ennui song
Of the swan-song
My very Soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem