O I look deep into the violet eyes
Of this twilight and I see beauty die!
I sense, on the cold wind, the wildest cries
Of the dispossessed and the lonely;
That this cruel, modern world wants to deny.
Here life is a prison; nowhere is free.
Is there no place or time for one to dream?
We poets absorb all the silent screams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem