If Christ had a face like Ingrid Bergman,
Along the harbor, billows from a sea of devotion,
Crash the shoreline with perfume and grace,
And Fortune captures her lovely face.
Bairns of a bas bleu, holy as the Holy Father,
Gather round the theater as it were a balefire,
And give praise to lipstick-stain'd glass
For adumbrated repose from a fair-faced lass.
Caliginous ails keep the callow shoes well-tied
And mercy at Humphrey's table. The pope says 'Hi.'
And is this the American Dream bloom'n from buds;
The masses purged, by a star, of ancient falsehoods?
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I would like to translate this poem