Lazy and lazy the hour
Inside me sounds
(Soul that ignores!)
Lazy and lazy and lazy,
Lazy and sleepy
The moon drains...
All so useless!
So as ill
So divinely
Futile - oh, so futile
Dream that you feel
Of yourself absent...
Shipwreck before the dusk
Hour of pity...
All is fog and fluke
Hollow and lost hour,
Gray of vivid
(What sunset invades me?)
Why lazy before looks
Lazy in its sound,
That I feel to ignore?
Why freezes me
My own thinking
In dreaming of loving?...
Dead that hour!
That cries my soul
So lost and oblivious?...
Sea hitting the sand,
For what? For what?
To be what we see
In the alb sand hitting?
Just this? There's not
Lamp of being -
-One- sense smoldering
Inside the hour - yet
Foam until die?
I didn't found this poem in english so I thought it would be nice to translate it, I'm pretty sure it's not perfect but what can I do?