Stands the man for prominence
Wraps him in his angel's wings
Of dark jacketted tweed.
Blown off his cane, icy gripped
While "no bad, but different kinds
Of good weather are freed".
Here on the farthest high rock
Struck by what, godly observed
In an epiphany
Swirls before him, and behind:
"The beginning and the end of
All natural scenery".
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem with strong imagery....