Here lies a world long deceased,
Whose Life by Sheol was seized,
His glorious childhood in aeons was spent,
This blissful man soon too went,
A Stronger age its strength had lent,
Vanity it is of it to speak,
The sea of destiny did spring a leak,
when death was enthroned,
when it shall grow like a horn,
all we know is here it grows as a thorn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
After reviewing Thoreaus work, I think you successfully met the challenge. Pretty brilliant mirroring.