This place is settled despite the din
For a welcome awaits within,
No offence to the sensitive ear
Are the cries of joy we hear;
What chance has peace against the tide
Of voluminous shouts of pride
What chance has serene tranquillity
To vanquish euphoric mobility?
To sit and await the world's turning
Hangs pale next to childish yearning
And reflection would seem a puny prize
Compared to the happiness in your eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem