round and round
the sylphs of time
they go
restless and
breathless:
I saw grim faces
here
and I saw
dreary faces there
I saw the waters boiling
the raucous seething
of acidic bubbling:
round and round
round and yet
all remained in drear
and surly without
sound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem