'What death would you desire? '
She says: 'A bronze death that yields
a cloister for the heart; or that
which is charter for a giant, a silver death;
or that for which one must labor:
one's sacrament, that's a death of gold? '
Alas, how can your pilgrim choose?
Always there's the hissing of fire-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem