Within that nameless realm where Dead meet Dead
I met that one through whom my life was banned, 
      Who gave for love fierce hate.
So wan the eyes, reflecting eyes as wan, 
I reached my hand to clasp the outstreached hand
      And touched-but icy air! 
‘Alas! ’ I said: ‘Alas! Alas! poor shade! ’
And he: ‘Alas! Alas! poor shade! ’ he said.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    