cheerful, I add and multiply
in the Doldrums, subtract and divide
when of a metaphysical bent,
demonic spirits incite
progeny of imigination
witches and gargoyles,
Oh Ovid, did you really believe
they raise and supress
lightening and thunder
clouds and winds
tempests and earthquakes
pull downn the moon and stars
visions of poets eerie and ghastly,
believe not the songs,
is smothered in surmise
and nothing is but what is not
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem