Forebrain handsteps on lunar surface
Become first prints of man-on-moon
Under pressure of a million
Neo-cortex skeletons;
A cloudy disc degree-width
Tick in riverloop of Kosmic time,
Piscean wheel swing magnetic
Finger to aquarian point.
It's time.
It's time the crystal images
Which stand on albion shore
Were smashed
And all icons of history
Broken in light of all-consuming fire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem