Seeing me sad
The Muse cam near
Bearing her fires
And gave to me.
Once I had
The torch of burning fires
I ran around
As the baton runner
Runs
To give to other Poet Seers
The sacred fire.
And
From my sadness
And
The Muse's pity
Grew
Tens of new Poet Seers
Who spread the
Fires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem