Of this noble art,
Are acts left in heart!
To the errand of inks,
In cryptic coloured lines,
As of a witch to a spell!
Ours, the village bell!
It drips red,
The devil's bed!
So it paints skies,
The poets inks!
Jonah had the voice!
David had the lines!
So, were Solomon's rhymes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem