Hidden sensations availed as our coterie entered,
consecrated, purged, and 'NOW! '
Thence, winter's impediment - screaming thrusts of frost -
transmuted to secret Elysium and the trail was wrought.
We, ecstatic innocents, bathed in benediction, beheld the mount -
transfigured, munificent...GOD!
DGH8
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem