The upraised voice, incandescent
With praiseful joy! Force divine!
Angel-read, as if seized just now
The Good News. Each thundered line!
There's a rightness adds to its charm
In melding a tune, soft swells
As a balm, soulless darks poured on
With a tale strikes dumb all hells.
Of your desolate shrills whence sped
O winter night? O world sunk?
Stood up to by what flickers in
Each little Gabriel's spunk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem