As the moon rises up into the sky
Above the leafless, shivering trees
It shines down on the old watch-tower
That stands alone on a high hill
Where once a signal fire was lit
When the Spanish armada was sighted
Lichens now cover most of the stones
Foxgloves and ox-eyed daises grow at its' base
It is centuries since the last lookout
Stood up on its' tooth-like battlements
It's completely fenced off now, not safe for visitors
But on one of the nights of the full moon
When the dog fox calls and the vixen screams
In the windows, moving lights can be seen
From the flames of many candles, flickering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully descriptive… a fine write, bravo!