All they meet by love-December
in some ages early, dark headed
remember, casual belief of her
little to earth to stand puzzled.
Not far, beyond miles of two-
we spoke before bring fades.
Deep in rejoicing moon, beneath crystals
And me driven by grey fumes; spreads.
To sun; days lowered to hold
like stiff-polar blow iced the land
And buried somewhere, with goddess-old-
before bright mends to her jeweled-fold!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem