In Windmill Street
Reflected the old town
The Satyrs put a mirror
And the old town
Swam in it.
In Windmill Street
The waters on the kerb
Slippery with forked
Tongues
Of bubbles busting
Moved along
Carrying the dirt
With them.
The drains
Not far away
Sumps of the waters
Worked
Ceaseless pumps of night
A magic night
And drear
But ah! that was ago
Centuries ago
And yet
Yet
Still reflected be
The measures of the stars,
The moon, and all,
With awry faces.
All.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem