A Poet Seer shabby and hunchback
down a drear hill went
and it was growing dusk
and it was growing red
and twilight shone the
waters of the bay:
and hummed to each other
the caverns and the caves
a vessel sprightly went
into the port without a hand
to row or pilot:
silent it glowed
under the white seething moon
and yet
though
the Poet Seer shabby and hunchback
weak and alone
who walking almost fell
yet
sang he a sweet song of verse
that told of olden days of
ancient times by just occasional rhymes:
and marveled the jocund red dusk
and danced jazz-like the
mighty stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem