After the remaining circles a new birth,
It grew within and without, forming circles.
Under the seas of tranquility it gave a speech,
Forming roses and sweet wine, forgiving all.
We gathered to achieve with prospering looks,
Forsaking the dreams, foregoing extremes,
Like men who are men of reason and compassion.
These philosophers were the born few who
Decided the worst effects, the better aspects.
After the circles of doubt was an abhorrent gulf,
An abyss of frightening strength, slow essence.
The circular path was trod and all happiness
Fled from riches of the sun and moon and stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem