Though ravishing, for the enveloping wiles
Of those who for elegance stitch
What I see is enhanced when, what is spun
On looms of harps alters in pitch.
When by such music, each twirl heavenward
Is purified in your routine.
Or perhaps only, of my thoughts was I
Overcome to shed the obscene?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem