Quick-turning world, mowed down of
Old Time's harvesting
Effecting what but muddled
Cloud schemes; truth-questing!
Wind's spaciousness is laughter's!
Soul, fear not to loose
Your universes' trail, so on
God are forced to muse!
Scares, scrapes, that after all sum
But a life-venture.
A child's day, in summary;
Closed behind - secure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem