When in the river, step on,
'Tis blood the river turn!
Little Lily Struggling under the tormenting tentacles,
Of bastard torns.
Getting it feeds, and softening it thirst
From it growth covers.
In shade of pretence, and of motives hidden;
Like willing, like not willing:
A little it share, a little it let to fall,
And like barricade, barricading prosperity of the after
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem