We
We humans must
Labor in the pens of
Music
In the sweat of the Muse
In the dripping honeys
Of the altered verses:
The town
Has slept
And it be time to versify
And chant
We
Always chant this way
My Monsignor
As long as I sing Poet Seer
I will sing thus each day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem