When the reproduction
of the life mask came
I could touch Lincoln’s head.
It is an experience
to be with the great emancipator
without his hair.
Cheek bones are high
relatively sharp
but the massive brain commands
only an intimation
of that great integrity
which just as it
would not be a slave
so -
it would not be a master.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem