She dissected my macrocosm,
And tuned to vapor my organism,
Ina fair weather winged her passport.
The operated toxin writhes in agony,
The violent miracle wills the blacksmith,
The vacant hearth cries for fire.
Tale after tale, -revives the satiety,
But the psychic climax, and physical flood,
Never had the boiling of saturated blood!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem