Who shall declare the secret of thy birth,
Thou old companion of the circling earth?
And having reached with keen poetic sight
Ere beast or happy bird,
Through the vast silence stirred,
Roll back the folded darkness of the primal night?
Corruption--like, thou teemedst in the graves
Of mouldering systems, with dark weltering waves
Troubling the peace of the first mother's womb;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem