The wind blows and howls
through the trees
darkness fall upon the open land
as silence creeps through
the streets every
eye shut for the day
every feet eased off
the weariness of hour,
as they mind wander
but perched in black
upon the high lines it gazes
on in the distance
as the morning ease in the
creature stares on
for at the crack of dawn
it will be gone
oh silent dove
you will be moaned
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem