The Acme Poem by Kinsley Lee
The Acme
Ryug-Sa, Lee
Be struck by severe season's whipping
It swept to come to north at finally.
The plateau, where the sky ends by wearing,
It stand up whereon the frosts in sternly
Trying to tread on more steps, there's no way,
So I do not know where to kneel.
So I shut the eyes for thinking, only the way.
Maybe the winter is the rainbow made from the steel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:35:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
