Where thunder fails,
May be, whisper wins
This is a miracle perhaps
And some times miracles do happen
Should miracles make themselves into a sequence
That defies much celebrated reason
Saints may rejoice
Which bodes their bliss eternal
And each rejoicing
Signals a conquest august
Over gnawing agony desperate
The whisper emerges triumphant
Where a devilish shriek would be expected
And the miracle of miracles:
In exalted moments
One can't be sure which is which
- Is it thunder-blast deafening
Or is it a babe's joyous throbs fluttering?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem