Let, let, let, let it happen, transpire, befall!
Let our curbed Pandemonium swell, storm and squall!
Let the gulfstream of raw sense encroach the still!
Let us have our way, and we've got our will!
Neural nodes in strain like a bowstring taut
Dream of one strain-relieving strong arrow-shot!
Seas of feelings brim over the law and the norm!
Let our curbed Pandemonium swell, squall and storm!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem