a inspiration, a holy infusion of the muse
then a tabulation, multiplication on so many levels
the cells, the legs, the eyes, the nails, the hair all
turning up at the right places, a range of musical notes
so that they could be worked into a fine art of creation
when all is well conceived, there comes sweeping over
the valley of thoughts, an angel cueing to all to take on
to their feet on a journey to the land of humanity, a contraction
to give the world another divine work, either to fall in love
with or to frown upon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem