(I John 2:1. If any Man Sin, We Have an Advocate)
My sin! My sin, my God, these cursed dregs,
Green, yellow, blue-streaked poison hellish, rank,
Bubs hatched in nature's nest on serpents' eggs,
Yelp, chirp, and cry; they set my soul a-cramp.
I frown, chide, strike, and fight them, mourn and cry
To conquer them, but cannot them destroy.
I cannot kill or coop them up: my curb
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem