Season-pointing, for what proceeds
Quadrant by quadrant
Dread we now, does so, nearing
Colour-scarce, cheer-scant
What, for picture schemes, bares its hand.
Reverting back to
Thunderous-hailed, the black and white.
Year's own Dark Age - due!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem