Stopped singing the Bat his hoarse song
and it was night
the stars reflected the fierce burning
on the water-bosoms loud
some one in the heavens cracked a fierce
laugh
the bending trees on bastions sudden
stood
then fell again as in the coming night
all to wane propense whispering
all to wane propense and to whispering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem