In the mundane pilgrimage,
Mr. Tinged Glow Wine,
Searches and whines.
He needs another of his own,
Who can mitigate all his moan,
Can feel and deal the captain of his ship,
And things odds and haphazard she can keep.
He needs more a plasma -reflector,
With present decency and future blue,
That can remake his naughty, and reads his clue.
All that cherishes Mr. Tinged Glow,
Are, a psychic damsel, with silent flow,
A fountain of transparent feeling,
An wizard's wan meant for healing,
An artist with magic glass,
In her his own identity ever flashes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem