Let motions think amongst the essenes past,
of heathens all determined not to spoil
the once essential gifts of righteous oil
whom surplus was to bring it all surpassed.
The Kingdom of the Lord has fluid sense,
of purpose that from each, whose fingertips
hast brought great cargoes offering the dense
decision making freedom of lost scripts.
To whom the home apocryphal shall praise,
Who'd banish them mere scruple for unspent
each fragment shall establish it in phrase
that from the resurrection His consent.
Concede the home of parchments as a place,
to call it the remembrance of one's Grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem