In fronting a world-place
But sky am facing!
If not high as hawk perched
Its plummet tracing.
Down, down through a window
For what of it's tossed
And as far, in flamed orbs;
Visioning's enthused.
Cooled down of what's long used
Shore-breaks is sun-glossed.
san remo vic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem