The shadowed
In the Brontë's,
In their time,
Crouch till go wild!
Lost in their sky,
Encounter deem lights,
Toe to head, deep downs!
The questions race, I sigh:
"What happened and how? "
I wait for reply!
Come to me in line,
Shirley's Frankenstein,
Church, preachers, and lie!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I could be my fault for not understanding all the details in this poem. So, I will say nothing negative of it. There may be some poetic merit in the lines that I fail to capture.