Tongue-flame muse with fire now doused,
your light is no longer aflame for you speak not the truth.
Your elfin mind, once soft-hearted and innocent,
was embered in knowledge, which was your crowning glory.
You taught patience and love
through a lamp-lit spectral of fragile glass.
Now your magic, frozen by the lies of the night,
is but another breeze-blown desire of silky light.
Sheeted and unbidden for,
your timeless gold-dust magic
is but a blue-speckled hope and dream.
Once subservient, you came to power
and bathed in the forbidden ripples of twilight;
you breathed in the pirouetting beauty of life
and breathed out a lie.
Your eternal punishment is to witness the beauty of the orchid,
yet feel the thistled rejection of your sins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem