Under the snows fallen by the wind and rain
A little man of grateful beams of light has emerged;
His visions powerfully strut and perform an escape
From the endangering isle of a great weather and might.
Understand their talk and allegiances, many bloods
Concur and result, towards the essence of a prison,
To dissolve in wastes and ink of the better sort:
One finally admits the cold weather arriving.
From the face of pleasure evolves a real moral value,
It subsists and sustains the living
To be frightful and kind,
A kind being of strength shall believe and form a value.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem