And in the wee hour,
world has woken up,
dazzling white rectangles windows of trains
in a row, moving north
black shapeless smoke billowing up
froma high conical chimney,
half a circle yellow moon in the
elevated west sky going west,
, soon east turned into crimson.
whatever impresses your mind in the first instance,
must be subjected to further investigation.(sir Goethe)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem