A SUBLIME SOUL
Let me see the clear spring
Let me have the shady grove
I, across the running hill
Want to see the dying sun
Where have gone those flowery brooks
That gave me thoughts of beauteous dreams
Beautiful more than vernal bloom
And made the human face divine
Taking away all mists from me
And making me a soul sublime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem