Almost every poet has lamented his age
And has sung of happier times that command homage
Some predict the return of the idyllic past
And appease powers that be near or distant
Finding the present moment rather unbearable,
Some develop Edenic nostalgia, others love of the Kingdom Heavenly
In any age, who would dare the Cross willingly
Without glimpsing a distant glitter of the Crown?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem