In a secluded corner
There was it: the tree
That wept
And sacred was the
Tree
Sacred were its tears.
For
When things that breathe
Weep
There's sacredness all
Round.
Sacredness
That has the propensity
To raise the soul
To nobility
Here Homer roams
Disconsolate and
Restless smiling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem