I'm him about whom long tales are wound;
The young chap who wears faded blue
And whose fame has ruled every musical sound;
The blessed youth of a righteous walk.
I'm him who shall sit
Upon the coveted pedestals of the world,
The prodigy whose star lit
The dark alleys of old
At his nativity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i envy your world, poet. Can I join your world? Keep writing.