I sit atossed to heaven's skies by thee,
Wherewith the myths and lies of fame not be.
I floss not fear nor flaunt no foe while there.
My style is strong, not weak, and my beak most fair.
I seek my wings to fly to anything,
And when I speak my wind is like a king.
Standing aflight my might is what I sing,
The birds my choir, the earth my band and bling.
- Joshua Guillory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem