Mouse_
Member
- Jan 19, 2021
- 27
A (probably bad) translation of my favourite poem I wrote:
Lead wings over the sky's roof
Tell me the hour is near;
A shy veil falls over the eyes,
Over frost-encrusted eyelids.
It's the daylight hour in her evening dress
Made of shadows and stars;
It's the deep seated coma that follows death,
Drowing out their lights.
In the hour when the world bends to Rest
And waits for the approaching night,
A cold cloak grabs at my limbs
And fills my veins with ice.
The trees tremble under the rain
Falling soft and silent;
A far away balcony paints itself in black:
A darker and darker island.
Oh lying lights along the streets,
Windows on different worlds!
I look at you and wonder, how can I come
Back from these desolate places?
It's about the deep sadness that comes over me at twilight, when my problems always tend to seem worse and I feel like I've never been more alone. I wrote it in the style of my favourite poet, Giovanni Pascoli.
Lead wings over the sky's roof
Tell me the hour is near;
A shy veil falls over the eyes,
Over frost-encrusted eyelids.
It's the daylight hour in her evening dress
Made of shadows and stars;
It's the deep seated coma that follows death,
Drowing out their lights.
In the hour when the world bends to Rest
And waits for the approaching night,
A cold cloak grabs at my limbs
And fills my veins with ice.
The trees tremble under the rain
Falling soft and silent;
A far away balcony paints itself in black:
A darker and darker island.
Oh lying lights along the streets,
Windows on different worlds!
I look at you and wonder, how can I come
Back from these desolate places?
It's about the deep sadness that comes over me at twilight, when my problems always tend to seem worse and I feel like I've never been more alone. I wrote it in the style of my favourite poet, Giovanni Pascoli.
