Every man shall surmise like the poets
And change his leanings according to poetry;
This poetry dwells from the inner soul,
Directly the journey goes to the likeness of heaven.
Confused and despised is man’s apparatus,
Then the devil takes over his brain of solubility,
These rare intellectual thoughts enter the copse,
Those interjections arise from the corpse.
Let the poets live forever, defining the light,
Deceiving mad mornings like fire and ice,
But letters roll forth in their born ways,
Like the poetry of the poets who conquer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem