Standardized to the mutable penultimate,
The step just below the heaven unknown hitherto,
And unshackled from all steps trodden ere,
The ultimate I can now behold;
The ultimate I can now hope to reach up to.
Still chained to steps trodden and past,
Crime and pain of hell you inherit.
For, standardized to a fanciful ritual,
Transient and yet relevantly meaningful,
I stand in the penumbra of utopia,
Very close to threshold to heaven.
Consider this.
Even heaven could be the metaphor for pre-heaven
If heaven deigns to be really palpable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem