Stranger read this my poem;
Find out the gods' anthem;
See how the lofty souls of gone converse,
And how acres of the heart words traverse.
I pray read this my poem,
For though it be not so good a rhyme,
It will soon fall on me after some time
The glory of Muse hidden under veneers
Of memories of fallen greats' tears,
Lamenting the death of corrupted art,
And the unrequested dilution of honored craft!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem