I read a poem
Miss Wilcox,
Let me I
Bow, respect.
Tip of hat is little
To show you how dear
You are and what you mean.
‘Protest' that you wrote
Is our need for now and everyday…
For today, tomorrow
Day after to the end…
Till God's soil is free of greed
And fair-paid is labour…
Then you, I, human
Celebrate…can smile
For good of freedom.
Yes dear, love to read
Your poems of passion
Your poems of the peace.
You are an example;
Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem