High
High
High
The
Stars
And
Our
Hands
Must
Be
That
High
Must
Reach
For
Them
President
Of
The
Stars
Elected
For
A
Day
So
That
Each
Year
There
Will
Be
Three hundred sixty four Presidents
And
More
In the succeeding years
Old
Man
Of
Age
Yet
Youthful
In
His
Verse
That
His
Heart
Overflows
The
Sea-waves
Thrill
This
Twilight
For
The
Twilight
Glimmers
Glimmers
In
The
Eyes
The mesh
Of
Beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem