O' wonder glory of futile majestic trip!
so long in horizon, quenched to limits keep:
All this be fair, traveled in court
and dust, be veiled my eyes sport!
Accomplish; only to fame, not truth
along axis, It got; echoed to our faith:
To will it be, saffron underneath beauty
and only chord meets to trial; that mighty:
Frozen, bleak is that; that odds
compelled, shake no heart, weal into odds:
Truth be bold, not to ugly duckling
to screened eyes; and well underdog sting:
Nothing be achieved; never been achieved
separate a song ultimate; we are deceived:
No more lie; would broaden our strike
to night, hovered in mind of demons click.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem