Birthed anew in the mud,
the disgusting snake pit of blood,
and ash.
Reborn of a queen's cherry,
Risen like Lazarus,
out of the mire,
Saved from the grim Viking pyre.
Wreckage sob story,
a healthy sample of death,
and desire,
Fight proud,
and drink a cup of God,
a flower,
budding fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem