How you must all wonder
what he is really like
The delight of him human
so stirring to the breast
He gets the remotest sense
of their experience
To be near such a one
so pregnant with promise
They one they expected
all those waiting years
The one who sees
the lining of their hearts
He is no great lover
but that is no great matter
They hunger for instruction
And he has armloads written
In hope of the fluttering moment
when iris blossoms out
And the plumed figure moves
another speckled flank may thrash
On the hook of an
upraised eyebrow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem