Harmonic rivers cast their tempo
To alleviate suffering and sureness;
The shadows of the rivers probe
And foster children as they are neglected;
Faster than swimmers we aid the river-people,
Like an outward hand and spirit.
Want the desirous feeding grounds!
A general havoc ensues to tell the tale;
My fountain showers its blessing and appears
Glum, like itself it walks in the air, sir,
Walking until it drops and sits and stands
To goad the food from the plate.
A little heaven probes into desires,
Telling a tempo of ridicule,
That harmonised the plain features
Of this page and these pages of neglect,
The offering of somewhat yesterday
Struck at the heart of wide jokes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a dreamy sensation and wonderful flow to this poem. Much to ponder which is a sign of a great poem