UPON a steed he came with speed,
    The Day behind him breaking;
And still he sped when Day o'erhead
    Her last farewell was taking.
'Ah, whither fliest?—Name thy goal!'
    'The Dark from which I bounded!'
He spake and fled; and in my soul,
    The voice night-long resounded.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    