Leave it to its ruling passion
World, reposeless; ever
Tossing each in its woe-filled strife
No good sense would abide
To roar on, in all of its pride
Of seas' heaving over.
Here's your rightful place. Soul-illumed
Caverned quiets within.
Lie of its lost fabled realm. Last
Of the mysteries all
To culture, fundamental
Gave rise, for re-claiming.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem