The Silver Fairy, under flowers
Stands; holds apples, hidden powers.
Adam his rib, Eve the fruit.
Gone, rejected bible loot,
The Preachers, selling hours
The Silver Fairy, in her bower
Sits; mild and docile, hidden flowers.
Waiting till there’s no-one, mute.
Her wings of silver, still.
The Silver Fairy, apples sour
Lies; beating breast in sorrow,
Moving towards her freedom fluted,
Noted for her silvered beauty.
All asleep, reprised, astute.
Her wings of silver, still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem