Strike me down-
A cry from within!
Rent me whilst thou will!
Anguish of the mind
Judged by the condemning eye.
It longs to be purged in an Elysium of Tartarus;
In the divine, bleached of scornful doubt.
Repent!
Nay, I shall hide in depths of sinful compromise.
I will play my soul to tunes of presumption.
If Fate meet a hand so gentle,
As on the Tree He didst nest the plea.
So also shall I then strife towards eternal beauty;
And wash me in waters of sanctity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem