Churned energies must stir accumulated dust.
Hereafters show scant scope for blossoms fresh to flower.
Aired options in Cornucopia & Co evaporate bare rust.
New mantle don to save eleventh hour.
Gather, before you sup, Life’s roses, perfumed power,
Exhilaration s[c]ent. Who’d in Tomorrow trust?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem