Ecchoing Green
I take my daily potion
This is an addiction.
This time from Blake
His 'Ecchoing Green'.
I find me but lost
Something must wrong.
Do not get its rhyme
Neither its mean, nor time.
I seek, search and see
Many read it, and sing.
Nothing I find but to say:
'Get out you illiterate! '
Since all know it but me
Illiterate must be me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem