Now the medica treatment is in progress -
special ointment & antibiotics in my case,
I am much too aware of my wounded leg’s
infection; I feel it burning - and after taking
the prescribed pills I’ve become nauseous
At home I feel contrite over being so intense,
I’m finding concentration difficult, its probably
an effect of the infection - I could not get any
of my work done - although I tried to conceal
this truth from myself, denying that I was
Not making progress with any text, but now
I’m tired of sitting still - my swirling mind has
reached a stand-still; my story of Dianthus,
serious and thoughtful to a fault, is of a girl
marked to be a witch, going to a Magician’s
Feast where everyone shall be impressed by
her superb intelligence; this is the best I can
do - if anything more, it’ll change into a
different story - and that just won’t do …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
yes - and no - dear Margaret Alice - changing the story simply and truly will not do! You are the flower of Zeus - Dianthus - a five petal flower - matching the verses in your poem...... Oh how I long to be your magician and keep you in this feast forever - for it benefits me far more than you, I'm certain...