Washed upon my shore an ivory thing
glowing in health of secrets
yet to come.
Rune ancient letter engraved all are
raised hole in side to
flush the top.
Music I do hear silver tunes wafting
true most melodies are
pictures of the future
held for you.
Box is groaning under hand the
whispers wrapping round
all ears to know the
lottery here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem