I see the edge draw near.
I see the edge draw near.
But dusk draws near too:
We are as in a race.
Our chariots are our wills
And
More our patience respective.
I reach the edge.
I win not
For it be night
Meantime.
And
I do not see the twilight of
The sparking seas
Lost the fading day
The coming down
Of the day's curtain
The rising of the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem