SiR: the context is in the tone...
this train has that... a big... meaty... ENGINE...
a 'fierce-throated beauty! ' and that can pull through
mordant trials, up tracks that contend sacred cast
and with a string o' cars n' coaches
diverse in nature.
i...
i like to see it lap the miles
and lick the valleys up
and stop to feed itself at tanks,
and then - prodigious - step
around a pile of mountains,
and supercilious peer
in shanties, by the sides of roads.
And then, a quarry pare
to fit its ribs
and crawl between
complaining all the while
in horrid - hooting stanza -
then...
chase itself down hill
and neigheee like Boanerges.
And then prompter than a Star
STOP! docile... omnipotent...
at it's own stable door.
THIS train is long - true - but
full of mystical candy,
exclusive portions too sweet
for jaded mouths, they negligible
palates o'...
mere... mortal... men...
and me
._.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
she might not like you but she'd love the poem. just like I do cool!