the slavered cabinets congregate... monstrance-flaked frontispieces flutter,
turn to tally the sanguine solderers....
do issues of wrought renderings pursue the pre-pronged deliberants?
will there be graces in the longitudes of capriotic chalcedony...and, if so, how
ebon their fingerprints?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem