Atop this high, up-gushing
For a fount of delight
My life's ride, whose rainbow hues
Whizzed off, left and right.
Long since as a cloud, stablished.
Firming, in fluffing round
For life, quieter, what secures
The Thinker's high ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem