Mountain of mellowness, not size but beauty
And the pointed peaks wherein all beauty glows
Season-wide and through day and night
Often in half-shame covered by clouds.
As from the volcano's orifice there fires rise
And gluttonous all come and over run
One after another each territory
And there spread red and rich fertility
So the wondrous pointed peaks eject
White as m ilk that not only scalds as fire
But heats all round as do the fires wild.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem