I dreamed that Milton's spirit rose, and took
From life's green tree his Uranian lute;
And from his touch sweet thunder flowed, and shook
All human things built in contempt of man,--
And sanguine thrones and impious altars quaked,
Prisons and citadels...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very poignant piece of fine poetry here, it reflects on reality.