653
Of Being is a Bird
The likest to the Down
An Easy Breeze do put afloat
The General Heavens—upon—
It soars—and shifts—and whirls—
And measures with the Clouds
In easy—even—dazzling pace—
No different the Birds—
Except a Wake of Music
Accompany their feet—
As did the Down emit a Tune—
For Ecstasy—of it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem