Beyond what, world-raised, error on error
O holy one! Whence shame-seized.
Your child, to be ever looked upon!
And not be looked down on!
Your little chick, beyond what, wind-climbed
To no good voice, deferring
Angel's pleasure-shouts still refering!
'Mongst breezes' whispering!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem