The tattered violet hues erupt, The headstrong tower put
As wind carries the shower of dark, mystical blades
Slicing the skin of the air, bleeding their scent into the spirit of the world
The purple cascade dapples the fur of the hare, struck, a sweet smelling aroma
A taint of glory driven to brilliance
Alexander Wojno
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem